Switch
by UglyDucklingPsychoSwan
Summary: Very AU. Bruce Wayne is under the care of the best doctor in Arkham, Jonathon Carr, his drawing's are graphic and stunning but those of a mad man. Then something changes and the drawings take on a whole new meaning...
1. Chapter 1

_Something a little different, I hope you enjoy it._

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The drawings, sketches and artwork that adorned the walls of his cell were colourful, cartoon-ish and graphic. The scary characters that thrived in his mind as a way to justify what the world had thrown at him, were too alive on those pieces of paper. But he continued to draw, he continued to write and every new person that he met became a new character in his world of stories. His mind was fractured, it was halfway between sane and completely insane. He would go for weeks, months, without uttering a word and then he couldn't stop talking for days.

This was not one of those days.

"Good Morning," a bright voice said from the doorway. The young women was eerily familiar thanks to how he had depicted her in his pages. "How are you feeling today? We sorted out some new bedding and clothes for you, but you refused lunch and dinner yesterday. You need to eat, sir, or your medication will hurt your stomach. Trust me, the hospital wing isn't nearly as nice as your suite. The nurses in there are far less forgiving too."

She approached slowly, making sure her hands were held open and slightly in front of her. She was calm and gentle, her demeanour was pleasant but the monster in his mind made him glare at her. She produced a comb from her coat pocket and very carefully started to sort his hair out. He just sat and let her, his body too weighed down by exhaustion and heavy drugs to keep him calm.

"We'll have to talk to your doctor about visitation," she smiled. "I think you're well enough now. Your sons and partner would be so happy to see you. It's been a while, it must be at least a year. The last time you let them come and see you was just after I started working here. They ask how you are all the time. Do you not want to see them?"

He stared straight ahead at the wall. In his mind, he was being taunted by a she-devil. She was evil, she was one of the people keeping him trapped here and her boss was far worse. He'd defeated them a hundred times, but they still kept coming back with their drugs and their shocks and their games.

"Would you like me to wash your face?" she asked gently. "Yeah? That'd be nice wouldn't it? You've got your morning appointment shortly and then you're going to see Dr Nashton and Dr Isley for your programs, today."

Her hands were gentle as she smartened his hair and made him look a bit more presentable, but he didn't trust her. He didn't trust any of them here. They were all devils and demons and he wasn't about to try and entertain them. She was a witch in sheep's clothing, this one, she looked friendly but she was an accomplice to the worst of the doctors.

"You should leave him."

"Say again, honey?" she asked gently, a little surprised to hear him speak.

"You should leave him, he's going to kill you."

"He won't, I won't let him," she replied with a smile. She didn't understand, she didn't see what he could see and it didn't matter how much he tried to stop her, to save her, she just didn't understand.

"Would you like to brush your teeth today? Or would you like me too?"

Her voice was agreeable, but he knew it was all a lie. Deep down, she was evil, but there was a side to her that could be saved in the right circumstances. He didn't answer her and fell into a stubborn silence, so she proceeded to take care of morning duties. Finally, once she'd coaxed him into letting her clean his teeth, he relaxed as she stepped away. He looked up at her and saw that warm welcoming smile that often preceded more drugs or one of the others arriving. She moved to the doorway and opened it, she pulled in a trolley with various breakfast foods on it and she pulled it to him.

"Your choice today, anything you like. I've managed to wrangle you coffee too," she chuckled and poured out a cup for him. "Your notes say you like a drop of milk and two sugars, I'm a black no sugars girl myself. I drank way too much coffee at school, my professors used to tell me that my blood was 98% caffeine. But I got straight A's, so something worked."

He picked up a croissant and eyed it carefully before he pulled it to pieces and checked thoroughly for any pills. He ate slowly, savouring it, but he kept an eye on her, making sure that she didn't slip any medication into anything he was about to consume. But she just set to tidying up a few of the things he'd scattered around his suite during the night. She insisted he had the nicest rooms here, he had a separate bedroom to the living room and a bathroom of his own. He thought it still felt like prison. He downed the coffee, ate an apple and then set on eating a bowl of very sugary cereal before he was disturbed again.

"This is what I mean about the Interns interfering with my patient!" a man snapped from the doorway. "She's not qualified to wash his underwear, let alone provide essential basic care!"

"Dr Carr, she's almost finished and months from getting her licence," another shorter more portly man said as he followed. "She's trusted by all the other doctors, especially Doctor Isley, but you treat her like she's some volunteer for the kitchens."

"I don't trust her with a patient like this," Dr Carr said flatly. "She's not experienced enough, if anything she'll aggravate his delusion further."

"Now isn't really an appropriate place or time to discuss this," the fat man said lowly.

"No, you're right," Dr Carr sighed. "Miss Quinzel. Please leave."

"But I was just-"

"I want to discuss this in my office, I'll see to my patient first," Dr Carr said angrily. "It's your licence at risk, not mine. The other's may have given you an easy pass thanks to your hair dye and blue eyes, but I expect so much better from a straight A student who apparently passed on her own hard work and not on her back. Go to my office and wait there."

There was a look that passed between them that only he seemed to notice, and as they melted into the villains of his delusions and drawings, he made a note of that moment of silent communication between the pair. So much for 'professional relationships'.

"Sorry about this mornings… unnecessary complications," Dr Carr said calmly once the other two had left. "Just can't get the staff these days, the students are getting worse and Sharpe just worries about results, not the actual care or planning. She's probably upset you enough already with her incessant chatter and I don't want to make you feel anymore under pressure than you already do, but we do need to talk about some of these drawings."

He opened the file that had been under his arm and he pulled a few sheets of paper that had been sketched over and then coloured in perfectly. The scripture was that of a comic book and the panels showed a lot of emotion for a still cartoon image. Dr Carr looked at one particularly graphic image a little longer than strictly necessary, it was of himself and the blonde intern in a damning situation. But of course, that wasn't what they strictly looked like. In the drawings, Dr Carr had green hair, pale white skin and bright red grinning lips. The Intern wore a ridiculous black and red jester outfit and often had two hyenas accompany her. In this image she was holding a large carbine-like gun at his head, her finger perched on the trigger, the green-haired character was partially covered by a parachute and a frown on his face at the 'rat-tat-tat' sign that hung from a metal rod from the gun's barrel. A joke gun. How… immature.

"These are very good, before your accident did you ever consider taking up graphic novel illustrations?" Dr Carr asked with a smile. "You've got a knack for giving cartoon's life. I just wonder where you got the idea for that useless intern to be the sidekick to my clown counterpart."

There was a long silence as Carr spread the papers and scribbles on the trolley. He tilted his head as his patient studied each pen stroke with great interest, as if seeing them for the first time. Dr Carr kept some distance, but took his time to monitor each of Wayne's interactions and reactions with the papers.

"Your creativity is… astounding," he said slowly. "But it is just fiction. You should be learning that now thanks to your therapy and different sessions. Your work with Dr _Isley_ -" He said that name like it was poisonous "- is coming along very well and its very important for you to be able to function on such a basic level. We want you to go home and be fully independent and sane, not leave you in this place for the rest of your life. I will consult Dr Isley and Dr Nashton as to whether it would be a good thing for you to see your wife. They've been asking to see you for months, but you haven't been stable enough to cope with that."

He looked up at the doctor and almost sneered at him, but he kept a neutral face. This was the evil one, the one closest to the devil. He had tried to take him down so many times, but every time he thought he'd finished with this demon, it popped back up to tear him down again. He couldn't hear what the man was saying, all he could hear was crazed laughter and it filled him with fury and hatred. He didn't want to kill the man masquerading as doctor, but he needed him to be locked away for good.

After almost an hour of trying to coax a few words from his patient, Dr Carr decided that today wasn't going to be a progressive one. He stood up from his chair and collected his pieces of paper together. He left a wad of paper and fresh pens on the desk and made sure the patient took his medications.

"Dr Isley will be along later after lunch time, Mr Wayne," Dr Carr smiled. "I'll check on you before I leave this evening and I'll see you again tomorrow morning. Have a nice day, Bruce."

"Don't call me that, Joker," Bruce Wayne growled.

Dr Carr paused for a second, he chuckled and bid Bruce a farewell. He walked from the room and closed the door behind him before setting the safety lock. He strode through Arkham Asylum, cheerily greeting other doctors, interns and orderlies as he went. He ignored Sharpe's shouts for his attention and headed straight to his office. He opened the door to see the blonde Harleen Quinzel sat on his desk.

"What have I told you about interfering with my patients?"

"That there's only one person I should be interfering with?" Harleen smiled innocently, her big blue eyes fluttered gently. He smirked and slammed the door behind him. He walked quickly too her and leaned on the table, his hands either side of her hips and his faces inches from hers.

"Don't play games with me, Harley," Jonathon said lowly. "You will lose."

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 _A/N: leave a review if you'd like to see more of this. It's not a typical origin story and a little bit of a slow burn.  
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 _Updates for this will be purely based on the reaction this story and each chapter gets :)_


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Thank you for such a great response! Sorry for a slow update, life's taken a turn for the better and I've started a new job. This has slowed down writing somewhat but I'll definitely keep going with this. But as before, the reviews and reaction will be what powers this story :)_

 _Enjoy!_

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Chapter 2

Doctor Pamela Isley was one of those women that just attracted the wrong kind of attention. In her mind, any kind of attention from a man was wrong and most definitely unwanted. Her pharmacy was her little sanctuary, her place of peace and solitude. Away from the bustle of the busy corridors and cell blocks, she could focus her mind and she could concentrate on her chemicals and drugs. She'd convinced Sharpe that she could run the pharmacy single-handedly and he'd fired the other members of staff. She had total control and often met with other senior doctors to recommend new drugs, or different strains to try and help medicate the patients. It was one aspect of her life that was going well.

Her home life was non-existent. It was just a set of rooms she returned to every night, just to sleep and wash in. She had no emotional attachment to the building itself. Her plants were a different matter and she'd bought her house purely because it received the best sunlight and the least amount of rain for a half decent price. They were her own version of therapy. They were her break from the oppressive world of the asylum and the misogyny and corruption inside. Some people had cats, Pamela had flowers.

Men had done her wrong for most of her life. Her father had been absent and left her and her mother in abject poverty, her male teachers had tried to take advantage of her as she hit puberty earlier than the rest of her classmates. Her boy classmates then followed suit and by the time she hit medical school, she was convinced that men were nothing more than petty, obnoxious animals that she was totally switched off too. She was pretty friendless, preferring her own company and she didn't particularly care if she had a partner or not either. Humans just weren't her bag.

The only person she had any time for was Harleen, she polite and civil to the rest, but the younger woman just seemed to _get_ her. The younger woman had an energy and spark of life that just breathed life into the tired old halls of Arkham Asylum and into Pamela's long-dead social life. They spent a lot of time together outside of work, Harleen would stay at her place over the weekend and would clean the house or rest and revise whilst Pamela tended to her plants. Then the vodka would be broken out and they cuddled up on the sofa, watched crap TV and fell asleep.

It was Pamela's idea of a perfect friendship.

But she knew that it would come to an end. All things did and it would be because of a man once again.

She walked through the corridors of the Asylum towards Jonathon Carr's office. She was meant to have Harleen work with her that afternoon before having an un-official psychiatry session with one of the patients, but, once again, Carr had disrupted the plan so he could discipline the intern who was doing exactly what she'd been told to do. So Pamela was angry and wanted her colleague to lay off the promising young doctor. Her heels clacked against the floor and she flashed her security pass at the relevant points before she pounded her fist on Carr's door.

"I need Harleen, Carr," Pamela said loudly. "She's due to have a mini-session with Victor Zsasz. Nash won't wait for her."

"Go away, Pamela, I'm dealing with the situation," Jonathon snapped back. She could hear shuffling around and she tapped her foot on the ground impatiently. Whatever was going on beyond that door, it was taking them a long time.

And she categorically didn't want to know what they were doing.

Harleen ran her hand through her hair to try and tame the now messy dyed blonde strands. She finished doing up the buttons of her blouse and tucked it back into the hem of her skirt. She made sure the seam in her stockings was straight and then she wriggled her skirt flat and straight. She looked over to see Jonathon still lounging back against his chair, shirt open, a smug, spent, smirk on his face as he watched her dress again. His gorgeous chocolate brown hair was tousled and he had smudges of lipstick across his mouth and jaw.

"I think that's another win for me," he smirked.

"One day we're gonna get caught by someone other than Pam," Harleen said quietly as she tried to sort her make-up out using the small mirror on the wall of his office. She cleaned off her eye make-up and then applied more mascara and eyeliner before running over her lips with more red. She made sure that the collar of her blouse hid one of the love bites he'd awarded her and she double checked herself before spraying herself with perfume.

"Don't wear such attractive clothes, then," Jonathon Carr chuckled lowly and let his eyes roam over her again. He finally stood and zipped up his pants, did up his belt and buttoned up his shirt. He knotted his tie and ran his hands over his hair to make sure it went back in place. He borrowed one of her face wipes and removed the lipstick stains from his jaw.

"Do you really have to belittle me like that in front of Sharpe?" Harleen sighed as she finally looked set and ready to walk out of the office.

"Yes, because if they think I hate you, they'll be less suspecting of what I actually do to you," Jonathon growled, sending delicious shivers down her spine. "Hidden in plain sight. It's cliché that the ones who hate each other most end up together, therefore this is the best way to keep our dirty little secret. And we don't want anyone to know until you've got your licence and finished school entirely."

"Yes sir," Harleen nodded and he caught her mouth with his again. His hands ran up from her hips to her waist and he pulled her flush against his chest. He'd had companions and lovers in the past, but none were quite as exquisite or forbidden as this student. She was a cracker, a wild card, she was up for anything he could come up with as long as it was legal. He enjoyed her company and how she wasn't scared of his seniority or his intellect. She didn't get frustrated with his short temper and mood swings, instead she challenged him and put him straight when she needed too.

"Carr!" Pam shouted through the door again and he finally dragged himself to the door and he unlocked it. He opened it and saw Pam stood there waiting impatiently. Harleen sheepishly slipped from the room and walked a few steps away, trying to hide her teenager blush for being caught again.

"She's all yours," Jonathon said coldly.

"You're a pig, a misogynistic, cold-hearted, self-absorbed pig."

"Love you too, Pammy darling," Jonathon laughed and closed the door in Pam's face. The red head turned to see Harleen shifting awkwardly, the blush still on her face. She almost dragged Harley by her elbow and headed back towards the pharmacy. Pam couldn't speak, she was furious with both of them and she felt ready to explode.

"Men, all after one thing, stupid girls."

"They're not all bad," Harleen chuckled. Pamela raised an eyebrow and peered down at the younger woman. She was a few years older than Harleen but she had a gift with drugs and chemicals that had led her to being the only one who worked the Pharmacy. She could be patronising and spiteful, but also kind and compassionate and Harleen had only ever experienced Pamela's good side.

"Yes they are, even your one," she said and guided Harleen through the asylum. After a short while of silence they reached the pharmacy and Pamela was throwing pots and doses of pills onto a tray before giving it to Harleen.

"I shouldn't have told you."

"No, you shouldn't have," Pamela sighed. "Come on, let's just keep going. I don't want to know any more about your _affair_. You know his second divorce hasn't gone through yet, right?"

"Why are we doing this again?" Harleen sighed. "We've talked about this, Pammy."

"I just worry about you, I couldn't care less what happens to him," Pamela said and looked down at the younger woman. She touched Harleen's shoulder quickly and then carried on walking ahead. "At least I can save you from Sharpe."

"Oh god, don't," Harleen shuddered. "His wife is so lovely, she's such a wonderful woman and she doesn't have a clue about Quincy's… hand issue."

"Just make sure you always have your Taser," Pam told her. "You wouldn't be the first to have to use it against him. Somehow he manages to slick away from lawsuits and keep his job as the director, I really don't know how he does it."

"Probably uses some of the Wayne money to pay people off," Harleen muttered.

"Yeah, that's always an option," Pamela nodded. "Just keep your relationship under wraps until you pass and then you let Jonathon loose on the man. I can't imagine he's best pleased with Sharpe advancing on you."

Harleen paused, it hadn't ever really been discussed and Jonathon had just accepted that Sharpe was probably going to target her. He didn't like it and tried to put Sharpe off, but the older man was relentless. The couple times that Sharpe had actually managed to touch her inappropriately, she'd gone to Jonathon and he'd done his best to comfort her and to help her document the incidents. She had every intention of taking legal action once she had her licence and any support she could garner was gratefully received.

"He tries to protect me from Sharpe," Harleen shrugged. "He tells him to leave me alone, but he knows I can handle myself pretty well."

"Yeah, it looked like it," Pamela chuckled. "We've just got to pop into the pharmacy and grab a couple of trays, then we can go see Mr Zsasz. He's keen to see you again. You've certainly made an impression on him too. Nash won't wait much longer."

"I like Victor. In as much as you can like a cold-blooded psychopath," Harleen chuckled. "He doesn't scare me like he does others."

"He calls you sweet blood, I'd like you to try and figure out what he means by that," Pamela said. "The next few days I'm not going to be working with you, there's a new doctor joining the pharmacy and as much as I hate sharing my space, I do need some time off. I'm here all the time and… whilst I like being in control of my pharmacy, sometimes a girl needs a lie in."

"Who's the doctor?" Harleen asked.

"Sharpe won't tell me," Pamela huffed. "Apparently I'll 'appreciate the surprise', which means I know the person and I don't like them."

"You don't like anyone," Harley chuckled.

"I like you, don't I?"

"I'm no one," Harleen laughed and bumped her hip into Pamela's. "I'm just an intern."

"You're so much more than that," Pam said, her voice almost wistful and Harleen didn't understand why. She knew her own feelings or the younger woman were getting more and more complicated, but she wouldn't ever act upon it. She was too ashamed of that side of herself to admit how she felt for another female. She was too ashamed with most of her life to share it with anyone.

"You're the best, Pammy," Harleen grinned and hugged her tightly.

"I know," Pamela sighed. "I know. You could've picked so many men that would be less likely to hurt you, Harleen. That… Jonathon Carr has a string of women with broken hearts and broken homes. He isn't loyal and if you're kidding yourself for one minute that he… what's the point?" She gave Harleen a side glance and watched as the blonde bit her lip. She didn't mean to be so hard on the intern, but she knew that Carr had no intention of keeping Harleen around.

"Look, it's just fun, it's just… messing around," Harleen sighed. "I appreciate your concern as my friend and my mentor, but… I promise, there's no getting hurt in this. There isn't any emotion in it."

"No? That's why you've practically moved into his place?" Pamela asked. "Come on, Harl."

"The man's going through a messy divorce, Pammy," Harleen huffed and glared at the older woman. "He needs something uncomplicated and fun and relaxed. So what I've got a couple of pairs of socks at his place, I'm not asking for anything more. I didn't ask for that, he brought me some clothes and kept them there. I know you don't like him-"

"He's twice your age, Harleen," Pammy interrupted. "Like you say, he's on his _second_ divorce and whilst he's fighting it out with his almost ex-wife, he's using you."

"And? What if that's what I like?"

"Then you're definitely spending your time in the right place," Pamela smirked and tapped the Arkham property print on the metal tray. "Come on. Let's go to Zsasz."

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 _A/N: If there's anything you'd like to see (related to this story, my other writings or just something else) please let me know!_

 _Drop a review and I'll magic up some more :)_


	3. Chapter 3

_Hello all! I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to post this chapter. My new job's been a little bit full on, but hopefully I'm in the swing of it now so I'll be able to write more and post a bit quicker. Hopefully I haven't lost anyone with how long it's been, but I am enjoying writing this one so hopefully with your continued support, I can continue to post :)_

 _Thank you all so much for your patience, I hope you enjoy this chapter!_

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 **Chapter 3**

Jonathon Carr was leaned back in his chair, fingertips pressed together and rested against his mouth. He was deep in thought and memory, trying to order his mind and reasoning. He had built himself a reputation of being cold and a loner. He liked to keep work and relationships far apart and mostly had stayed away from any form of relationship in the last couple of years. He'd tried being married and it hadn't worked very well. Twice. He'd taken a vow to stay away from women, but there was one little blonde that kept him coming back for more.

He'd worked hard all his life to be where he was and nothing had come easy. His parents had been so poor and over-worked that he hardly saw them and he'd had to look after his younger brother most of the time. School had been difficult and college almost impossible. He'd worked as a waiter in one of the local crime family's restaurants to cover the cost of medical school and once he'd gotten his licence he'd immediately started to apply for Arkham. Jonathon was Gotham born and bred, he'd lived in the damn city all his life and hadn't ever had the urge to leave permanently. He'd made Arkham his second home, he'd treated more patients than most and had finally secured his position as a senior psychiatrist.

That seniority also meant he had to deal with a certain amount of college students, interns and new doctors. He had to give a couple of talks a year at a university and then with the highest achieving interns, he had to tutor them. Most of the time he scared them off the job within a month and he wasn't bothered for a while. He hated interns. He hated them all. All lucky kids with rich parents who bought them a subscription to some magazine and they fancied themselves as amateur psychologists or psychiatrists. He'd made one young man cry on his first day and he dropped out of the internship and medical school within a week. Jonathon hadn't been more proud of himself.

But then a blonde girl walked in. She looked like a child, her glasses too big for her face and her clothes far too conservative for a girl with so many rumours of sexual favours in return for grades. She was nervous and quiet, she attached herself to Pamela Isley like a little limpet and skulked around him like a mouse. Until one fateful day when he'd pushed her too far. He'd shouted at her for being too timid with one low-risk patient and she'd snapped back. He could still remember the anger in her eyes and how her body changed as she laid into him. The spark he'd seen there had been the change of Harleen Quinzel. She came out of her shell and became the force of nature that she was now. The first day she'd worn a skirt and heels, he'd nearly had a heart attack, he knew why she was doing it and he'd resisted. But she was stronger than him in that respect, she didn't give up despite his many rejections.

"Jonathon?" a man asked from the doorway. He barely moved and just looked up at Quincy.

"What?" he said lowly.

"I would appreciate if you laid off Miss Quinzel," Quincy said gruffly.

"If she left my patient's alone and Dr Isley stopped pushing her onto me, then I would," Jonathon shrugged. "You know how I feel about interns. Especially at what's meant to be the best Mental Health institution in the country."

"She's very good-"

"She's decent, yes, but she's not worthy of working with Wayne, Zsasz or half the patients that she's helping with," Jonathon interrupted. "She's a kid, she got through school quick, these aren't people she should be messing with. She wouldn't last two minutes with Zsasz if he was unrestrained, he may be well behaved when he's wrapped up and chained to the floor-"

"Then teach her, do what you're supposed to do," Quincy huffed. "Our internship program is dismal because of you, Jonathon, I try to ease the shareholders worries, but I can't get rid of anymore because of your thick-headedness. If you don't want to tech her, I'll put her under your name for sessions but I'll work with her. I don't mind spending some time with a bright young woman."

He felt his blood boil. There wasn't a staff member in the Asylum that hadn't seen Sharpe hound the pretty interns they'd had here. But for him to target Harleen was a step too far in Jonathon's eyes and it made him angrier that there wasn't a damned thing he could do about it. The only person that knew about their little fling was Pamela, nobody else had a clue and until she got her licence and was done with school that would be the case.

"She's got certain… interests that I believe require correct application," Sharpe muttered. He rubbed his hands together and Jonathon found himself wondering how best to rip those hands off. His violent tendencies were normally kept well under control, but when it came to his girl, there was very little holding him back.

"Isn't three sexual assault accusations enough for you, Quincy old boy?" Jonathon asked, through gritted teeth.

"All settled out of court," Quincy said shortly.

"And all might as well have bankrupt you," Jonathon pointed out. "Leave her alone. For all you know she's got a gun and is waiting for a clear shot. Wouldn't put it passed her, she is from Brooklyn. Maybe give it a break with trying to coerce young pretty girls into being your bit on the side? I doubt Quinzel would let you do it to her anyway, Pamela's given her a crash course on how to use the Taser, she wouldn't think twice about using it on you."

"Come now, Jonathon, we've all got to have a hobby," Sharpe chuckled and glanced at him.

"At least mine isn't going to end me up in prison." _Just potentially out of a job_ , Jonathon mumbled in his head.

"You like divorces, I like young impressionable blondes," Sharpe smirked and walked back towards the door. "Like I said, either start teaching her, or I will."

"Fine, I'll go supervise her session with Eddie and Zsasz," Jonathon said. "Back off her, you've been good to me, I don't want to see you cuffed and dragged to prison because you've had one charge too many."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say that you were actually concerned for the girl," Sharpe replied carefully.

"What?" Jonathon asked with an exasperated look.

"Just how much you're trying to stop me from going there," Sharpe shrugged. "Just… interesting."

"I'm concerned for you, Quincy, we've been friends a very long time and you know I would protest your innocence in court, but it's better to avoid that, right?" He responded quickly.

 _Just break his hand, Jonathon, it'd serve him right,_ he thought to himself.

"Good point," Quincy laughed and patted Jonathon's shoulder before he walked away. Jonathon crushed a wad of paper in his hands and set to ripping it to shreds. He hated how Quincy spoke about Harleen, he hated that the man had thought about touching her, he hated how certain Sharpe was that he'd live out those thoughts. He couldn't wait for Harleen to get her licence and then he could punch Sharpe in the face for all the sordid and horrible things he'd said about the young woman. No one spoke about her like that, not whilst he could do anything about it.

Edward Nashton was a tall man, very thin with a balding head and an affinity for the colour green. The tallest man in the asylum, you could pick him out from a crowd at any time and his slightly awkward presence gave him an endearing quality. But he hated lateness. He hated any deviance from his routine or how he had scheduled his day and he didn't care what had happened to cause it. So as he watched the minutes tick by on his wrist watch, he started to count the ways he could make both Harleen and Pamela pay for their tardiness.

Eventually he heard the tell-tale click-clack of high heels and the two women rounded the corner. Harleen looked rather flustered but Pamela, as always, was calm and cool. Her aura of 'stay the hell away from me' was in full force and he barely acknowledged her presence, just a quick dip of the head as a greeting.

"What time do you call this?" Eddie asked.

"Sorry, Dr Nashton," Harleen said with a slight gasp. "Dr Isley had to save me from Dr Carr. Again. He was trying to explain why I shouldn't be near Bruce Wayne, even though Pam has authority to move me to wherever-"

"When have I cared for excuses?" Eddie interrupted.

"It's not an excuse, it's a reason," Harleen muttered.

"Eddie, Carr was giving her a hard time-" Harleen had to desperately contain her internal roars of laughter "-Lay off her. We're here, aren't we? We've got Victor's med block too. I'll watch from the other side."

"And as punishment, you can deal with him on your own today," Eddie sniffed. "He's feeling awkward, tried to bit the ear off one of the guards. Good luck." He stomped into the viewing gallery and Pamela touched Harleen's shoulder before she followed. She turned to the door and saw the red light was still flashing. A flashing red light meant that a patient was being restrained, a solid red light was a loose patient and a green light meant it was safe for staff to enter and exit the room. With Victor Zsasz, it was always best to wait until the orderlies had left after the green light was visible.

"Why is Jonathon so intent on making her life a misery?" Eddie asked Pamela quickly.

"There's not much misery," Pamela shrugged. "He just likes picking on her. Let's be honest, we haven't had an intern last this long for a while now, maybe he's out of practice at the long game."

"There isn't any other reason, is there, Pamela?" Eddie pushed and stared at her out of the corner of his eye. He knew something was going on, but he didn't know what exactly. He had figured out Harleen had some kind of infatuation with the Asylum's grumpiest doctor a long time ago, but he couldn't quite figure out what was going on after that. He loved a good riddle, a little puzzle to gently tease apart, but this was just starting to get a bit annoying now.

"Like what, Ed?" Pam retorted. Eddie couldn't find his words all of a sudden and he gaped his mouth like a fish a couple of times. He could twist a patient round in word based gymnastic exercises, hell he could probably sell an ice cream to a polar bear, but matters of a _base_ nature always brought the stammering pre-teen out in him.

"She's not going to be the next, ex-missus Carr?" Eddie finally stammered.

"Oh don't be daft," Pamela scoffed. "She couldn't be less interested in him if she tried. He just hates that he's not been able to break this intern. She could sneeze and he'd find a way to say she was trying to ruin his work."

"He's never failed at removing an Intern before," Eddie said flatly. "Why does she flummox him? There has to be more going on here. She was meek as a mouse when she first arrived, now she struts around like she owns the place. She followed every rule, she did as she was told, dressed like some kind of nun and now…"

"Eddie… shut up," Pamela sighed. "There is nothing going on between them, he hates her. She knows better than to mess around with a bad tempered, irritable womaniser. She's not stupid and her clothes are fine."

They both turned their attention to the interview room as Harleen took her chair opposite Victor. She had an ease and calm with him that seemed to just put Zsasz at ease. Conversation was steady and he rarely lashed out of became fixated. For some reason, Zsasz just took to Harleen. Pamela watched for the entire hour as the young psychiatrist held her own against one of the most intelligent psychopaths that Arkham had to offer. It was fascinating to watch Harley at work, she had such little ego during a session and she built her patient up to a comfortable podium so they could speak to her like they were equals. She was brilliant at her job.

"Why the hell is she in there on her own with Zsasz?" Jonathon Carr shouted as he walked into the observation room.

"She's perfectly capable Jonathon," Eddie said and rolled his eyes.

"They've almost finished as well," Pamela smirked. "I told you that Eddie wouldn't wait."

"This is a complete dismissal of protocol," Jonathon snarled. "The man is a deranged lunatic, he has killed enough people without you two sentencing the intern to death as well! I'm pulling this session."

"Carr, seriously?" Eddie sneered. "He's fully restrained, the only thing that's been removed is the muzzle because he needs to talk, funnily enough. He's far better behaved with Quinzel than any other doctor. Shutting this down now could set him back-"

"It could have someone killed!" Jonathon snapped. "He is to have at least two armed guards and two doctor's present in the room at all times, not one lowly intern. We know he can get loose of his bindings, he's done it before, you're breaking protocol that would see you get fired and blacklisted, Nashton. And you, Pamela, I thought you were friendly with Harleen, you of all people should have a vested interest about keeping her safe."

"She's fine, Victor is calm, she is in control-"

"He is a psychopath and she is a child," Jonathon hissed. He was stopped by a knocking on the glass. The three doctors turned to see Harleen stood in front of the mirror. She frowned and shook her head before returning to the session.

"I apologise for the disturbance, Victor, please continue," Harleen said politely. "You were explaining about blood, why I am sweet blood and other people are sour."

Jonathon was furious. Eddie and Pamela had placed Harleen at unnecessary risk, he knew she could handle herself but Zsasz wasn't just some crazy fresh off the streets, the guy was a maximum security patient. He had managed to loosen his restraints countless times, killed one member of staff and maimed a few others. He had strict protocol for this particular reason and now Harley was at the centre of the storm and unless he pulled rank, there was nothing he could do to protect her or stop Victor from taking advantage of the situation. Eddie, Pamela and Harleen may have thought she was in control, Jonathon knew Zsasz well enough to know otherwise.

"Sour blood runs through the veins of sinners, Miss Quinzel," Victor said coolly. "Sour blood spills much easier, their potential is far lower. They are just flesh, they are the sacrificial offerings to appease my knife and the higher power it feeds. Sweet blood, like yours, belongs to those with the potential for greatness. You, and a handful of others in this forsaken hell hole, have that… power in you. One day you will see yourself as you truly are. One day you will see everything from my side of the picture."

Deadly silence filled the observation room. Jonathon's eyes settled on Harley and he could see that she realised she'd lost control ages ago. For Victor to be speaking this calmly and openly, he had something up his sleeve.

"Pull it." Jonathon said lowly. "Send in the orderlies. Do it now, Eddie!" he shouted the last and ran from the observation room, just as Victor slipped his arms free of his strait jacket and launched himself over the table at Harleen.

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 ** _I know it's been a while, but if you're still interested, please drop me a review! :D_**

 ** _Again, thank you for your patience!_**


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews guys! You're amazing! I hope you enjoy this chapter!_

 _Work is kicking my ass at the moment, but your reviews do inspire me to post more and more! :D_

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Chapter 4

Time slowed to almost a stop as Victor Zsasz flung himself across the table at her face and she reacted without even thinking about it. She pushed her back hard against the chair and felt it start to tip backwards, she instinctively tucked her knees up and placed her feet against his chest. She heard the scrap of the chair's legs against the floor and she pushed as hard as she could with her feet, Victor was thrown across the room and slammed into the wall. Harleen's chair fell backwards before she could control it and she felt the back of the chair hit the floor first, then her shoulder blades and finally her skull. Pain seared through her head and cold spread across her scalp like trickle of ice water. She felt hands around her throat and her vision went black. She could hear her heart pounding in her ears and bile rose up in her throat. She could feel the weight of another person against her chest and abdomen, but her limbs weren't responding how she wanted them too. Slowly her vision lifted and she could see a very blurry face in front of her. She could hear a loud banging noise but she didn't know where it was coming from.

Harley started to recognise the person leaning over her and realised it was Victor. His face was inches from hers, his hands on her neck kept her pinned down and his knees pressed against her thighs. Her legs were going numb and cramps seized up and down her calves. She could already feel bruises rising up on her neck and a tear rolled from her eye down her cheek from where she was trying to gasp for breath. She could feel a spray of spittle and it was then that she realised he was talking. It was the first time that she also realised that she wasn't scared.

"You can feel it, can't you, Miss Quinzel?" Victor shouted at her. "You can feel it, the realisation, the epiphany! You can feel that sanity rushing through your head! That knowledge that you're about to die and you know it's okay! Pure fear, unadulterated fear-"

"I'm not scared," Harleen gasped.

"But you are, I can smell it," Victor yelled, as if he was experiencing intense pleasure. "I can taste it." He darted his head down and ran his tongue up the side of her neck. Harley grimaced and closed her eyes to try and rid the mental image she was experiencing.

"Victor, if you don't get off me and surrender yourself, they'll Taser you, drug you and drag you down to solitary confinement," Harleen spluttered as she fought for air. "You know how this will end, don't do this to yourself."

"Pay attention Harleen Quinzel!" Victor cheered, throwing his head back and letting out a groan. He suddenly snapped down to face her again and glared at her. "There she is, I can see her."

"See who?" Harleen coughed.

"You have reached salvation!" Victor cried out and picked her up by the scruff of her clothes and pushed her up against the mirror. His hand fisted in her hair and knocked her head against the glass again. Harleen let out a cry as pain split through her skull once more, her vision went blurry and she grabbed at his wrist that was against her head and whose fingers were trying to rip her blonde strands free of her skull.

"You've seen it too, you've seen the reality of this world," Zsasz giggled. "Not Harleen, but the other one. She knows everything. She's… she'll be magnificent, if you'd just let her free-"

"Get off her, Victor!" Jonathon shouted as the door finally gave and he and three orderlies piled into the room. One of the bigger thugs got his hands on Zsasz first and pulled him clear of Harleen, but it meant she also fell to the floor. Whilst the three bigger men were dealing with the psychopath, Jonathon ran to Harleen and gathered her into his arms.

"Why the hell were you in here on your own?" Jonathon shouted.

"It was fine until-"

"Don't give me that bullshit," Jonathon growled. Harleen stared up at him, his face was still blurry but she'd know that voice anywhere. She squinted to try and see him better, but her vision just wasn't clearing. She weakly looped her arms around his neck and leaned her head on his shoulder as he carried her out of the room. He saw Pamela injecting a sedative into Victor's neck and Eddie helped the Orderlies restrain the man until he succumbed to the medication. Jonathon put Harleen into a wheelchair and took her straight to the hospital wing.

"Harley, why on earth would you do that? Going in on your own with a maximum security patient, especially one with a history of being violent towards staff?" Jonathon hissed furiously.

"Eddie-"

"But why? You're not stupid, you know protocol, why the _fuck_ would you go in on your own?"

"I thought I could handle it, I have good rapport with Victor," Harley said quietly as her head swam. "Because I was late, Eddie wanted me to go in on my own as punishment."

"I'm going to kill him," Jonathon snarled. He tightened the grip on the handles of the wheelchair and picked up his pace. He was going to rip Nashton to shreds. Not only had he endangered the life of another member of staff, but he'd violated at least ten different pieces of official protocol and he'd risked Jonathon's secret lover. As much as he hated to admit it, he felt protective over Harleen and whilst he kept his emotions in check, he couldn't control that. He fell silent, but his knuckles turned white on the handles of the wheelchair.

They had a strict rule that they weren't allowed to get emotions involved. The moment one of them started to feel anything other than convenience and lust, they finished it and moved on. They weren't a good match, he was too old and she was too naïve and idealistic. She was too young and full of life to be weighed down with a dull old man. He justified getting her new clothes, a toothbrush and space in his wardrobe because she spent a lot of time at his and sneaking around with an overnight bag was harder than he'd originally thought. But to see her at the hands of Victor Zsasz, a convicted murderer and psychopath, had sent dread and anger through him before he could control it. She'd been hurt on his watch and that stung.

More than serving either of his two wives their divorce papers.

More than finding out his first wife had been cheating on him since before they were married.

More than finding out his second wife had lied about damn near everything.

"Jonathon, please don't get angry with Eddie or Pam," Harleen mumbled.

"Harley, they put you in a locked room with a man who could've ripped you apart with his bare hands," Jonathon said furiously. "They took advantage of you and your abilities and I nearly lost you-"

"What did you say?" Harley asked.

"You were nearly strangled and bludgeoned back there," Jonathon continued. He knew what he'd said, but he wasn't going to acknowledge the slip up. "Why on earth did you break protocol? Why on earth would you do that?"

"It's not the first time-" She stopped herself and closed her eyes.

"What do you mean it's 'not the first time'?"

"You're too angry to talk about this now," Harley said quickly.

"What do you mean 'it's not the first time'?" Jonathon bellowed. He stopped the wheelchair and moved to stand in front of her. He shook her shoulder and grabbed her jaw, making her look at him.

"Eddie and Pamela have… they've let me conduct sessions with Zsasz alone before," Harleen admitted. "But there's never been a danger and he's never-"

"That's both of them fired," Jonathon growled. "That's both of those _dumb-fucks_ out of this shit hole of a hospital!" He stepped back and let go of her jaw and shoulders. He ran his hands through his hair and let out a frustrated shout.

"No, Jonathon, stop, they only let me because-"

"Do not make excuses for them! You are the intern, they are responsible for you, it doesn't matter how close to the licence you are!"

"They did it because I asked them too!" Harley shouted back. "I was fed up of stalling, of being kept back. I was bored of just watching through glass and I was showing off. I asked Eddie if I could, Pamela said no but Eddie wanted to teach me a lesson. He wanted me to realise that I wasn't ready but… but it went well and that's when Victor started to call me 'sweet blood'."

He fell silent as rage pumped through his body. He started to push her to the medical centre once again, he went to the receptionist and organised a doctor to see Harleen. He parked her outside the office, applied the brake and turned to look at her again.

"Jonathon-"

"Shut it," he interrupted and walked away. He shoved his hands into his pockets and stalked through the hallways like a furious lion. He couldn't remember the last time he'd ever felt this angry, if he'd ever been this angry before, and if he hadn't walked away from Harleen he would've lashed out at her. He was too furious to even go near Nashton and Isley for the foreseeable future. He went back to his office and fell down onto his chair. He slammed his fists down on the desk and let out a growl. He was given two minutes peace before the door opened again.

"What the hell happened up there, Carr?" Sharpe shouted. "I heard the alarm, Quinzel's in the med centre and you haven't checked in-"

"They were letting her lead sessions with Zsasz on her own, Sharpe!" Jonathon yelled. "They were letting an intern run an entire session with that madman-"

"I authorised it!" Quincy told him. "I heard about her ambitions, Nashton ran it passed me and I thought it would be a good learning curve for her."

"Are you insane?" Jonathon laughed. "Are you actually fucking insane?"

"Who on earth do you think you are? Shouting and swearing at me, I own this place, I run this place and I pay your salary!" Quincy huffed and flushed bright red. "You might be one of the most senior doctors in this establishment, but that doesn't give you the right or ability to talk to me like that!"

"You let an intern in with Zsasz without an armed guard or qualified doctor," Jonathon said lowly. "Do you know how quickly he killed his last victim? She walked into the same room as him and twelve seconds later he had ripped open her abdomen with nothing more than a pen. The victim before, she spoke one word to him and he sliced open her throat. I can go into graphic detail with all of them, but I would like to save you the brain power. Victor Zsasz targets women, especially women that look like Quinzel. You signed her death sentence with that authorisation and it damn near happened today!"

Quincy fell quiet and looked Jonathon in the eye for a second. The anger and fury there scared the older man and he found himself looking at anything but Jonathon. He felt guilty, but also didn't want to accept he'd been wrong. He had thought giving Harleen the authorisation to take Zsasz as her own patient, would've made her more amenable to his advances. But he'd been wrong and she'd shrunk back from him and grown ever colder.

"I suggest you go and check on _your_ intern, then finish up and go home," Quincy said simply and calmly. "If you can't control your temper, you can't work with any patients."

"Fine by me."

Jonathon sneered at Sharpe as the man left and he slumped back in his chair. He rubbed his hands over his face and pulled at his hair. The pain broke through his anger and he let out a long breath. He felt guilty for abandoning Harleen in the med centre, but he couldn't have stayed. He was far too angry and he'd promised her that he'd never hurt her in one of his moods. She'd seen him punch a hole in a wall and cleaned up his bleeding knuckles and iced his swollen fists. He had no idea why she kept their affair up, but he wasn't going to complain.

"Jonathon, you're the biggest douche this side of Douche-Ville," he told himself. He pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a long breath. He was fond of her, too fond of her, she would be a great psychiatrist one day. She was beautiful and funny, he found his awful jokes hilarious and was happy to ignore any reference to his almost ex-wife. They worked well together, she smoothed out his rough edges and he brought out the dark side in her. But she infuriated him at times, she specifically went out of her way to annoy him and in return he ignored her and treated her like a pathetic little girl.

When he'd seen Zsasz leap across the table, he saw a vision of Harleen being ripped apart and her blood smeared over the walls. He'd been terrified and had been convinced that he'd be picking up body parts. He'd been so scared that he'd immediately become angry and now he regretted it. He shouldn't have shouted at her, he should've stayed with her at the med centre and not been walking back with his tail between his legs an hour later.

"Dr Carr," one of the nurses said shortly.

"Shirley, long time no see."

"That was a fun night down in Old Gotham Port," the nurse smirked. "Are you here to collect Miss Quinzel?"

"How is she?" Jonathon asked, trying not to sound too worried.

"She's got a slight concussion, some bruising and she's had stitches for the wound on the back of her head," Shirley answered. "She'll need a lift home, but a few days rest and she should be okay. Speaking of… Miss Quinzel." Jonathon looked to see her being wheeled out of a private room and he rubbed the back of his head. She didn't meet his eye, instead she just looked at the doctor who was holding her notes.

"So we've signed you off for a week," he said. "You've got your painkillers, make sure you eat something with them to protect your stomach. Come back here in a couple days and we'll check your stitches. We'll arrange a counsellor to speak to you before you return to work."

"I'll be fine," Harleen said quietly.

"Maybe so, but you need to be fit to work, for your safety and the patients'," the doctor said kindly. "Dr Carr, I'm sure you'll be happy to arrange Miss Quinzel a lift home?"

"Yes, I guess the responsibility falls on me," Jonathon shrugged and moved towards the wheelchair. Harleen looked away from him and pressed her lips into a thin line. He knew she was pissed at him and he was going to try and apologise as best he could once they were out of the close monitoring of the asylum.

"I'll call you in a couple of days, Harleen, to arrange your appointments, any problems just go to Mercy or call here," the doctor said before he turned to leave. Jonathon took the wheelchair and started to head out of the medical centre when he felt Shirley's hand on his shoulder.

"Call me sometime, Jonathon, I'm always around for a drink," Shirley said flirtatiously. Jonathon heard Harleen gasp and he smirked a little.

"Sure," he replied and pushed the chair out of the med centre. He took her to his car and drove through Gotham towards her apartment before diverting and heading towards his place. She was shouting at him to turn around and take her home, but he ignored her. Her place was in a bad part of town and no one lived near to her in case she needed help at night. When he parked outside his house, she jumped out of the car and stormed towards the front door.

"Harley-"

"You said you thought you'd lost me," Harleen snapped. "What on earth does that mean?"

 _"_ _Lie to her, just lie. She doesn't need to know the truth. The truth would see her disappear. Just lie, it won't hurt. It just won't hurt."_

"Nothing. It means nothing," Jonathon shrugged.

"Bullshit."

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 ** _A/N: Please drop me a review! If there's anything you think should be in this story, let me know and I'll see how I can work it in :)_**


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Thank you for your patience, there's about 8 different versions of this chapter. Some just pure PWP, others far too dark and some far too fluffy.  
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 _I think I've finally got the mix just right and it's extra long as a thank you for all of your reviews, patience and support. I hope you enjoy! :D_

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Chapter 5

Harleen put her hands on her hips and glared at Jonathon as he slowly approached her. She looked into his eyes and saw that he was fighting with his own anger, but she wasn't going to back down. She'd been damned near heartbroken when he'd left her in the med centre, she'd cried silently through the entire medical exam and the stitching of her skull. Not because she was in pain, she didn't really care about pain, but he'd left her. Just left her. Dumped her in the waiting room and walked out. That had hurt more than Zsasz trying to mash her head into the wall and she didn't understand why.

So as he pushed the key into the lock, she pushed him back a couple of steps and stood in the way of the door. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and glared at him. She wanted to know exactly what he'd meant and also what history did he have with that skank nurse in the med centre?!

"Tell me, Jonathon!" Harleen shouted.

"Can we at least go inside?" He asked loudly.

"No, we're not going inside until we've talked about this," Harley told him. "And what the hell have you done with that awful woman from work?"

"You're jealous? You're jealous of Shirley?" Jonathon laughed. "Seriously, sweetheart, you've not got a thing to worry about."

"Just tell me!" Harley yelled. Jonathon ground his teeth together and pushed her against the door. He unlocked it and put his hand onto the handle. He leaned against her and felt her shiver a little. He knew his effect on her and he would use it against her if she was going to be difficult. He opened the door and she almost fell through it, he wrapped his arm around her waist to stop her falling and he dragged her into the house.

"Have we finished yet?" He questioned, his voice low and velvety. His hair was a bit dishevelled and his eyes dark and alluring. His fingers teased at her waist and hips, he pressed his pelvis against hers and let a small smile play around the corners of his lips.

"Jay-"

"Honey, we can both stay here and argue, or we can have some wine and you can rest and I'll take care of you," he purred and it nearly made Harley's insides melt and turn into a puddle of goo.

"No, no I am not done," Harley said, the fire igniting in her again as she realised what he was trying to do. "You always do this, you manage to turn me into a blushing teenager with raging hormones, we end up naked and then I forget what I was angry about. So no, we're doing the grown up, serious conversation thing."

"Ah for gods sake," Jonathon growled and pushed away from her. Harleen scowled at him and walked after him as he went to the kitchen. She wanted to know so much, she wanted to try and get him off Pamela and Eddie's backs, she wanted him to explain to her what he'd meant and how much he knew Shirley.

"What did you mean with the whole 'I nearly lost you' thing?" Harley asked and leaned in the doorway as he poured himself a scotch. "And Shirley, what… when… how?"

"I watched Victor Zsasz throw you around like a toy, you're my intern," Jonathon snapped. "You are my responsibility. You are the first intern that's actually gotten this far, most of them are long gone by now thanks to my hard work. You get killed and not only does Arkham's spotless security history get ruined, but also our internship program."

"Don't lie to me, Jay, I always know when you're lying to me," Harleen said quietly and watched as he poured himself a scotch. Alcohol was always a tender spot. He drank when he was nervous, he drank when he was happy, he didn't drink without a reason, but it never stopped at just the one after he'd started. At least she knew she was touching a nerve.

But as much as she wanted to know the truth, she was terrified of it. They're only rule was about not involving emotions and the moment that happened, they were to end it. This whole arrangement was for nothing but physical relief and fun, they weren't a good match in any other way and they would only end up hurting one another. However, the idea of not being a part of his life was something she couldn't bear to consider.

"What am I lying about, hmm?"

"Right now it feels like everything!" Harleen said angrily. "You and me, Shirley, Zsasz…all of it! Don't treat me like a kid, cos I'm not one anymore!" Her voice slipped and her Brooklyn twang started to filter through. She hated herself for losing that little bit of control on her voice.

"You're not a kid? Then why the hell can't you follow rules and protocol like an adult, Harleen?" Jonathon shouted back. He waved a hand at her and slammed his tumbler back down on the table. He turned away, ran his hands through his hair and then faced her one more.

"I was authorised-"

"By a man who would do anything you asked if it meant he could put his hands on you," Jonathon interrupted. "You were coerced by a self-important, human-hating chemist and an idiot psychologist who's got a thing for Sudoku and Agatha Christie. How Nashton got his psychiatry doctorate, I do not know. The man's got more issues than most of our low-level in-patients."

"And what does that make you? Huh?" Harley yelled. She was furious with him, he made her feel so many extreme emotions and it unsettled her that he could do this too her in just a matter of seconds and with a few words.

"No, this isn't about me! I didn't nearly kill someone today!" Jonathon roared over her. His breathing was rapid, his eyes wide with his fury and his jaw left slightly open. "My decisions today didn't nearly end up with a dead girl and a Psychopath engraving another mark into his own skin. Nashton and Isley nearly killed you, and yes, it's their fault and their responsibility. But you're still so much of a child-"

"I am not a Child!" She pushed away from the table and turned to head to the door again. Jonathon was fast though and he caught her arm, before she could pull free, he'd spun her round and placed her at the edge of the table. His fingers wrapped around the top of her arms and she knew there would be bruises.

"No, you're right, you aren't a child," Jonathon said calmly. Coldly. "Then you can handle this like the adult you are. What you did today was professional suicide and actual suicide. You are incredibly lucky that Zsasz didn't think to grab anything other than your head and your throat."

"He wasn't trying to kill me-"

"You broke at least twenty lines of code, you didn't object to being alone with a maximum security patient who is highly unlikely to ever be released due to his psychosis," Jonathon continued. "You were unable to read that you had lost control of the session, signs that have been well documented with Zsasz, and as a result put yourself and your colleagues in unnecessary danger. You should be struck off your internship right now-"

"And I wouldn't have been there alone if you hadn't been insistent on winding Pammy up after she'd come to find out where I was," Harleen snapped. "I was only sent in on my own as a punishment. I didn't-"

"Protest? No, you didn't protest!" Jonathon interrupted, his anger getting the best of him and that meant he wasn't thinking clearly. "You thought you were ready to walk with the big boys and look! You nearly died! I nearly lost the only woman I have ever… Doesn't matter."

He let go of her like she was burning his skin and he walked away. He put his hands on the back of his head for a moment before he slammed his fists down onto the counter. He let out an angry shout and ground his teeth together. His heart was hammering in his chest and he could feel the adrenalin surging through his body.

"The only woman you've ever… what, Jonathon?" Harleen asked quietly after a long silence. She was terrified of what he was going to say. Even if he admitted something, she knew he'd be the one to finish this and she wasn't ready to say goodbye to him. She'd been in enough pain when he'd walked away in the medical centre and she'd known that she'd see him again once everything had calmed down, but actually finishing with him… it would send her insane.

"Nothing."

She walked up behind him and ran her hands up his back to his shoulders and leaned against him. She knew that physical contact helped calm him, she just hoped she hadn't annoyed him too much to trigger off another argument with her presence. She rested her chin on his shoulder and closed her eyes.

"You know if I say it, this all ends," Jonathon admitted. He sounded like the wind had been knocked out of his sails and her worry started to grow once again. She'd been telling Pamela for ages that she was only messing around with Jonathon, that it was just sex and nothing else. But she wasn't stupid, she also wasn't as naïve as some of her work mates believed. She wrapped her arms around his waist and swallowed the hard lump that had formed in her throat.

"It doesn't have to."

He chuckled and shook his head.

"I thought you didn't like lies?"

The silence was unbearable and she slowly extracted herself from him. She sat on the edge of the table and shook her hair loose of her pony tail, she cleaned her glasses on her blouse and tried to contain the tension in her body. She was playing with the hem of her skirt when he suddenly crashed his mouth down against hers. She clasped her hands against the back of his neck and let him push her down against the table top. He pulled her blouse out of the top of her skirt and one of his hands slid around her waist, sending shivers up and down her spine. She parted her legs and he moved easily between her thighs, bunching her skirt up around her hips. He growled against her mouth and his other hand slid up her leg from her knee. His fingertips flexed in her stockings and she whimpered a little.

She adored the weight of his body pressing down against her, she was addicted to how his hands moved across her body and how he just seemed to know what she needed and when she needed it. She tried to keep his mouth pinned to hers, but he lifted away from her like she was nothing. She chased him with her lips, but he pushed her down again and made her lie flat against the table. She felt the back of her head throb a little at the hard contact, but she ignored it.

"Tell me." She whispered as she tried to catch her breath.

He didn't answer, but his fingers made short work of the buttons of her blouse and his mouth quickly kissed a trail from her skirt across her abdomen to her breasts. He licked and nibbled along the cups of her bra, he was delighted with the moans and gasps that he dragged from her. Her fingers pulled and tugged at his hair and he wasn't ashamed to admit that he probably enjoyed the slight pain more than he should. He moved his mouth to her neck and started to suck and bite at her pulse point. He rarely gave her love bites, knowing that it would attract too much attention at work.

But she wasn't in work for the next week.

"Baby, please tell me," Harley pleaded with him and her legs wrapped around his hips.

He pressed his groin against her core and she whimpered at the contact. He was already hard and wanting, but he wasn't going to let himself fall to her that easily. He had to control himself, otherwise he'd go mad without her being around at work. He kissed her mouth again and continued to grind against her. She was intoxicating and he greedily took what she offered, whether that be their more carnal desires, or her friendly smile and evil laughter and their matching sense of humour.

Finally he broke their kiss and slowly moved away from her. He pulled her to sit upright and chuckled when she caught his mouth for one more burning kiss. He let his hands sit on her hips and he gently urged her away.

"Go take a bath and I'll cook dinner," Jonathon said calmly. "Then we'll talk."

"Jay-"

"Please, Harleen, just… go and wash. You've still got blood in your hair," he sighed. "You need to wash and then you need to take some more painkillers and eat something. I'd give you a glass of wine, but the drugs you're on probably wouldn't mix too well."

She pressed a kiss to his cheek and ran her fingers lightly through his hair. She walked out of the room and let out a big breath. She knew his house like the back of her hand and she didn't feel out of place here. She'd spent so many days and nights using this place like her own home, that she couldn't imagine not being here. She walked up the stairs and listened to the noise he was making in the kitchen, he was a good cook but when he was stressed he tended to get a bit sloppy about the food and alcohol ratio. She went to the bathroom and stripped out of her clothes. She ran a hot bath and climbed inside. She relaxed back against the porcelain and closed her eyes.

"Oh the hole you've dug yourself, Harley," she mumbled to herself before she let her body relax in the hot soapy water. After a few minutes, she took a deep breath and sunk down underneath the water. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears and as she focused on keeping her heart rate slow, she saw Victor Zsasz's face appear in front of her. She felt his hands wrapped around her throat and her brain was filled with his cheers and laughter. Harleen's eyes snapped open and she fought her way to the surface, it felt like something was holding her down and keeping her from breathing again. Her hands clawed at the edge of the bath and she hauled herself upright, finally able to take a breath. She coughed and spluttered as she gasped, she rubbed her face with her hands and tried to get herself back under control.

"It's the drugs, Harl, it's the drugs. You know you get a bit weird on codeine," Harleen told herself firmly. She set about carefully washing her hair and her body. Her blonde locks smelt of watermelon, her body smelt of passionfruit and her legs and groin were freshly shaven by the time she'd finished. She pulled the plug and carefully got out of the bath, her body felt heavy on her legs, but she welcomed it and was relieved to have the grounding back. She wrapped her body in a soft towel and quickly plaited her hair, before she dried her body and tidied up her mess.

She went to Jonathon's room and opened up her drawer in his wardrobe. She pulled out a pretty little light pink lacy underwear set and then a pair of leggings and a baggy t-shirt with "Gotham University" emblazoned over the front with the crest of her old gymnastics team in the centre. She applied a little bit of make-up and quickly checked that her stitches were okay before she headed back down to the kitchen. She wasn't sure how much time had passed, but she could smell something absolutely delicious.

"There you are, I thought I was going to have to send a search party," Jonathon teased gently from his position by the stove. She leaned against the door, her arms around her middle and she smiled at him.

"Yeah, I think I fell asleep, I'm not sure though," Harley chuckled. "This smells beautiful."

It's just something I've thrown together, seeing as we were going to be going out until… but I hope it's a decent substitute," Jonathon said with a friendly smile. She knew he was trying to reassure her that he wasn't angry anymore, but she knew that he was only trying to make her feel better.

"I'm sure it'll be delicious," Harleen smiled and nodded at him. "Do you want me to lay the table?"

"Yeah sure," Jonathon said. "Means I get to watch your ass in those leggings." She laughed gently and patted his backside as she walked passed to get a table cloth, cutlery and napkins. She had just thrown the cloth over the mahogany table when she felt two large hands on her waist. Her skin prickled and she felt her lower torso clench in anticipation. His lips pressed against her throat and he pulled her back against him for a few seconds before he left to dish out their dinner.

He put her plate down in front of her and then sat opposite with his own plate, he reached forward and squeezed her hand tightly. Harley jumped and frowned for a moment, she was a little confused as to when she'd finished setting everything and shook her head as if to clear a fog.

"Are you okay?" Jonathon asked.

"Yeah, just the drugs," Harleen nodded. "Codeine has a strange effect on me. Makes me a bit… scatty."

"You completely disappeared there for a few minutes," Jonathon smiled and touched her shoulder. He kissed her hair and watched her for a couple seconds to make sure she was okay. She'd sat down on the chair and just totally zoned out, she'd watched him and her eyes had followed him, but she hadn't been there. She'd looked like she'd been about to say something when she'd come back and he was worried about what was going on.

"So, you've cooked, I'm eating and I've taken more pain killers. Spill the beans, Mister," Harleen prompted, a mischievous smile played around her lips and he couldn't help but smile back.

"I'm still amused that you're jealous of Shirley," Jonathon smirked. "But, if you really want to know, it was one of those awful Arkham staff parties. Sharpe had hired the Old Docks venue and most of us were there, even Pamela. There was a lot of alcohol consumed and we danced and I kissed her. She drank even more tequila, tried to convince me to go home with her so I put her in a taxi and sent her on her way. Rubbish kisser, by the way."

"That's not what I meant and you know it," Harleen told him.

Jonathon let out a long breath and he sipped his beer quickly before he placed the bottle back on the table. _When did he get that?_ Harley thought and frowned for a moment before dismissing it. He reached out to hold her hand and Harley watched as her fingers slipped between his instinctively. She didn't know if questioning this was a good idea. The agreement was to abandon this _relationship_ the moment emotions got involved, but she didn't know if that would hold true if they both had some kind of feeling growing.

"I've been married twice," Jonathon said carefully. "Technically still am for the second one, but I'll have the final piece of paperwork in a couple of weeks declaring me free of that bitch. I am twice your age. I am your senior at work. I am old enough to be your father. Why do you think me telling you anything would be a good idea?"

"Because if we feel the same, is it still bad?" Harley asked, her eyes not leaving their hands.

"Yes," he laughed gently.

Her heart clenched painfully and she glanced up at him quickly. She saw he was also looking at their hands, but there was a vulnerability in his eyes that she'd never seen before.

"You say it first then, if you're so certain," Jonathon said. His voice was weak, he didn't meet her eye and he squeezed her hand a little. It was a stalemate. Neither would make the first move and he didn't know if it was for the best. She would get bored, someone else would take his place and he would have to make himself live with that. He saw her shake her head and he closed his eyes for a second.

"You are… a pain in my ass," Jonathon chuckled. "But probably my favourite pain in the ass."

"Jay…?"

"I am loveless, there's nothing left of it here," Jonathon told her and finally met her eye. "I am emotionally drained, two divorces from two evil witches will do that to a guy. All I have to give is this house, my job and this sorry sack of organs I call a body. That's all I have."

Harley felt the world fade away and she realised in that moment how broken Monica and Sandra had left him. She could see the pain he kept so well hidden and tucked away from the world.

"I'd be happy to live on the streets, both of us out of a job," Harley replied quietly. "As long as I have you to annoy… it'd be fine. If you'll have me, you've got me."

"Oh I've got you, princess," Jonathon said slowly as a grin spread across his face.

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 _A/N: Well done for getting to the end.  
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 _So for this chapter, a few songs ended up helping me get the general feel and got me into Jonathon's mindset in particular. Just where he's struggling with how he feels for Harleen, how to deal with their relationship, how he feels about other people involved etc. But the biggest influences were:_

 ** _Loveless - X Ambassadors_**

 ** _I Don't Know Why - Imagine Dragons_**

 ** _Start Over - Imagine Dragons_**

 ** _and_**

 ** _I Dare You - The XX_**

 _They not needed to get the chapter, but I thought you guys might like to see where music changes how I write - especially with this very AU version of Harley and Joker.  
_

 _For our next chapter, hands up if you'd like a little bit of naughty-fun-time with these two? Before moving on with plot, of course._

 _Please drop a review, I love hearing what you guys think! Thank you again! :D_


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: So, this chapter earns the M rating. If you want plot without the shenanigans, scroll right on down to the page break. If however, you like shenanigans, read on faithful viewer.  
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Chapter 6

Jonathon dropped Harleen onto the mattress of his bed and grinned down at her nearly nude form. He had wrestled off her leggings and thrown them away whilst they'd been in the hallway, her shirt had been removed at some point on the stairs along with his belt, tie, button-up and potentially the button on his pants fly. She was still wearing her bra and panties and she looked absolutely ravishing to his mind. Her eyes were dark, her face and chest flushed. He watched as she wriggled into the middle of the bed and he landed over the top of her. She looped her arms around his neck and kissed him hard, Jonathon slipped his tongue into her mouth and let his hands slide around her back to open the clasps on her bra. He growled as she moaned into his mouth and his hands covered her breasts, he squeezed them until she whimpered and then started to brush his thumbs over her nipples.

"Oh god," Harley gasped and pulled her mouth away from his. She pulled her bra off and tossed it to the side, her hands scratched down his back and she shouted out as he started to suck on her right nipple. Her back arched off the bed towards his mouth and she dug her nails into his shoulder blades. Jonathon grinned and kissed his way to her left breast, he felt his pants getting tighter and tighter as she got louder in her pleasure. He pressed himself between her legs and pushed his groin against hers. He could feel her heat through his pants and he bit her nipple in his haze. She yelped and he took the opportunity to capture her mouth with his.

He always enjoyed how vocal she was during sex. More than once he'd had to cover her mouth for fear of the neighbours calling the cops, but it definitely made it more difficult for him to keep control. He cupped her breast again and rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He fed off how she reacted, he'd learnt all of her favourite things so quickly thanks to how much noise she made.

"Please!" she whimpered and he chuckled at her a little. He moved down her body and laid between her thighs. He ran his hand over the crotch of her panties and watched as her back arched and braced against the mattress. Her hands clenched and knotted in the sheets as heat coursed through her body as he started to stroke and tease her through her underwear.

"You're mighty damp down here, honey," Jonathon smirked.

"For god's sake," Harleen whined and she looked down and her jaw dropped when he used one finger to push her panties to the side and then licked her soaking wet folds. She could feel a dull ache from the back of her head, but she paid it no attention. She'd always been able to 'turn off' pain and it definitely came in handy sometimes. She heard material rip and frowned when she saw her shredded knickers in his hands.

"They were my favourites!" she protested.

"But they look so much better in shreds on the floor," Jonathon explained. He didn't give her a chance to answer back as he returned his attentions to her, he bent forward again and started to lick at her lips, savouring her taste and noises as she moaned and grunted in ecstasy. He felt her hands in his hair one again and he looked up to see her eyes completely closed and her mouth open. He continued to lick and suck at her folds, letting his tongue slide as deep inside as he could before flicking the little nub at the apex with the tip of his tongue.

"Yes, baby, yes! Just there, please god, just there!" Harleen screeched and she pulled at his hair. He growled as the pain melted into pleasure and he felt his arousal twitch in his pants. He slid two fingers inside of her and started to give her a little more focused attention on her nub. He kinked his fingers slightly and then she screamed, pulled her hands away and grabbed the sheets, trying not to break her nails in the process.

He felt her body start to clench and tense as she came to the edge of her orgasm. He sucked her clit and plunged his two fingers inside of her and found her sweet spot. Much to his entertainment, her back arched right off the bed and se fell completely silent as her climax washed through her. Her mouth was completely open, her eyes screwed shut and her body trembled.

"That's it baby girl," Jonathon purred and gently moved his fingers to draw out her pleasure. She mewled a little as she came down from her high and she gasped to try and catch her breath. He looked over her body and ground his teeth together, she was gorgeous and he knew how to play her body to get her to where she needed to be. As she started to calm, he began to pump his fingers faster inside of her to push her over the edge once more. She was always so tight and he wasn't the smallest of men for her to take so he liked to make sure she was ready. He occasionally got rough during sex, but he didn't want to actually hurt her. This time as she fell, she let out a high pitched squeak but that was all.

"My head," Harleen grumbled and reached her hand back to gingerly touch her stitches. She frowned and checked her fingers, feeling a little relieved when she didn't see any blood.

"You okay, baby?" Jonathon asked gently, despite his own need for relief becoming apparent.

"Yeah, just stings a bit," Harley pouted. Jonathon kissed her softly and cupped her cheeks before he moved to stroke her hair. She hummed against his lips and her hands went to his pants, trying to push them off down his hips.

"If your heads hurting, let's do this a different way," Jonathon said gently. He jumped off the bed, rid himself of the rest of his clothes and laid down on the bed. He rested his upper back, shoulders and head on the headboard of the bed and held his hand out to her. Harleen giggled and moved to him eagerly, she knelt between his legs and wrapped her hand around the base of his arousal. She took the head in her mouth and started to suck and bob her head. Her hand pumped around what she couldn't fit in her mouth and her other hand stroked and fondled his balls.

"You're getting so good at this," Jonathon chuckled. He watched her with his eyes wide and grin across his face. She ran the tip of her tongue over the slit at the very tip of him and he groaned happily. It had been no secret that she wasn't as experienced as him, but she'd taken every opportunity to learn and he'd been a very willing teacher. As she'd learned and found her confidence, she'd started to try different things and he'd enjoyed following her lead. Harleen smirked as he let his head roll back and she tried to take him into her throat, but she just couldn't control her gag reflex. She felt fingers stroking through her hair and she looked up.

"Come on, baby, let's get this show on the road," Jonathon said to her. She nodded, grabbed a condom from the bedside cabinet, rolled it onto him and climbed up to straddle his hips. She kissed him as she started to lower herself onto him and he rested his hands on her hips. He gave a very quiet growl when she'd reached his base and he slipped his tongue into her mouth as they kissed once more. After a couple of seconds Harleen started to gently rock and move on him, she could feel heat gathering low in her stomach and her muscles began to tense. She rested her forehead against his and cried out when his hands left her hips to play with her breasts.

"You feel so good, honey," Jonathon groaned and jabbed his hips upwards, forcing a screech from his lover. They found a rhythm together that held Harley back a little and let Jonathon catch up, he was always so considerate to her and she tried to keep enough control to try and do the same for him. He cast his eyes over her and dedicated her image to his memory. Her red skin, the sheen of sweat that covered her body, her hard nipples and gorgeous thighs. She was a picture of beauty and he knew he'd kill any man that tried to take her from him, no matter how much he wanted to keep some distance between them.

She scratched her nails on his chest and clenched around him tightly as she got closer and closer to the edge. He held her hips to keep her still and slowly pushed inside of her. She kissed and bit at his chest and neck, desperate to feel as much of his skin as she could. She suddenly lurched backwards and bent her back, her hands weaved through her hair and she cried out. Jonathon pulled her closer and sealed his mouth around her right nipple again and started to suck and tease the nub.

"Jay, I can't… I'm gonna-oh god yes!" she cried out, her Brooklyn accent just getting stronger and stronger.

"Just a bit longer, Harl," Jonathon told her and pulled her flush against his chest. He placed his feet flat on the bed and started to thrust his hips a bit more effectively. He wrapped his arms around her body and he felt his balls tighten at the feel of her pressed along his body. Her voice was getting louder again, she was crying out his name and her groans became ragged and rough. God, he loved how primal she sounded this close to her climax.

"Go on, do it," he growled and just a few seconds later he felt her tighten around him. Harley's jaw dropped and not a single note fell from her until she started to come down. With her loud huffs for air, he slammed up inside of her once more and he groaned as he spilt. Harleen rocked gently to keep his pleasure going and she watched as his face twisted into a grin and sigh of ecstasy.

She leaned forwards against him and wrapped her arms around his chest. She savoured how his lean muscles pressed against her soft curves and she peppered gentle kisses over his neck and collarbone. She listened to his breathing start to slow and she moved to the side when he removed his condom, grabbed some tissues and cleaned himself up. He then pulled her back onto his chest and tugged the sheets up over them. He stroked his hand up and down her back as they stayed in a comfortable silence together. The first months had been full of awkward silences, unanswered questions and uncomfortable moments where they hadn't quite worked.

A few minutes later once they'd both gotten themselves back under control, Harley wriggled to his side and rested her cheek on his shoulder. This was her favourite sleeping position and when she wasn't with Jonathon, she normally struggled with sleeping. On the odd occasion that she and Pamela had fallen asleep on the sofa together, she found herself in this same position. Pamela held her tighter than Jonathon, but she felt safer with her man.

 _Her man_ , she never thought she'd be able to think of him that way, but now was different. It made her giggle a little and she felt his fingers gently tickle at her sides and she looked up to him. He had a curious look on his face and a raised eyebrow, she just kissed him and rested back down again.

"Why are you so happy? You should be exhausted," Jonathon smirked.

"I got a couple rounds left in me, just savin' myself," Harley chuckled. "'m jus' happy, tha's all."

"You've got more in you? Good, give me a minute and I'll find just how much more you can take, young lady," Jonathon growled playfully and grabbed her ass.

"Get off me you pervert," Harley laughed.

"You know it, honey, I can see you now all tied up and nowhere to go," he chortled and nuzzled her hair as he brought his hands back up to her waist. "Let's face it, once I had you tied up and bound, you would never leave this house again."

"Yeah, not happening," Harley snorted. "Besides, I thought you liked me being a bit more… active."

"One day you'll get it," Jonathon told her rolled them so she was underneath him once again. He kissed her hard and pinned her wrists against the bedhead. "But for now, this will have to do."

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Bruce walked around his room, moonlight filtered in through the window and the gentle hum of the heating system filled the silence. He paused at his desk and looked at his drawings for a moment. His fingers traced the face that adorned the top paper and he tilted his head. He knew that they were doomed, no matter how they felt right now. She may have been hopeful that they had a future together, but she was wrong.

He didn't understand how the others couldn't see what was going on between them. It was as obvious as the sky in the sun that Quinzel and Carr were in a foetid relationship and it would poison both of them. The rest of the Arkham staff were blind and fooled by their apparent hatred for one another, in his moments of clarity he just wanted to get hold of Quinzel and shake her. He wanted to shout at her to snap out of it. Then his delusions and hallucinations would cloud him and they would warp into those evil cartoons in his head.

Those murderous, hideous creations in his mind.

The doctor's tried to control them with drugs, but it just meant he was trapped inside of them. He fought endlessly, but occasionally that _damned clown_ just beat him down and he couldn't fight any more. He was certain that Jonathon Carr wasn't as bad as the Clown, but the man was sure hiding something and he figured that the day it all came out, there would be a lot of heartbreak.

But this… Batman. He was a fascinating idea. A protector for all of Gotham?

Bruce had never drawn the Batman in detail, he'd always been a blurry shadow hanging on the edges of his drawings. But as Bruce picked up a pencil and started to draw, he made notes on the tactical parts of the Batman's gear and outfit. He thought hard about how he could make it work and he managed to stay in control until the sun started to rise.

 _"_ _Ah-ah-ah, Bats,"_ that bone curling voice cooed from the dark edge of his mind. _"You're mine now."_

"I will stop you, Joker," Bruce snarled as his delusions started to take hold and the room melted and bubbled away as his mind started to turn. "In my head and in the real world."

 _"_ _What a silly Bat you are,"_ the white skinned clown cackled.

"I need to see Dick and Tim," Bruce said and wrote a note for the doctors. He had to see them and it had been far too long.

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 ** _Fun times with Harleen and Jonathon are harder (*_** _gigglesnort_ ** _*) to write than Joker and Harley. You can go a bit crazy with our clowns, whereas (_** _right now_ ** _) our lovely pair are still relatively normal. Harley's a little reserved and unadventurous, Jonathon wants kinky times but won't push her... It's just more difficult._**

 ** _Don't worry, that will all change. Eventually this story will tie into Suicide Squad, but this ones got some serious legs (_** _I'm just realising 0.0_ ** _) and I hope we can finish this one._**

 ** _Please review!_**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Harleen woke slowly and a smile spread across her face when she felt Jonathon's arms still tightly locked around her. She always wondered if he dreamed that she would run away if he loosened his grip even just slightly. She realised he was still asleep and she turned round in his arms to look at his face, she stroked his cheek gently and felt her heart flutter in her chest a little. He was absolutely gorgeous. His slight stubble, chocolate brown bed hair and his perfect skin, how could anyone leave such a perfect specimen of a man?

She felt a strange pressure in her chest and she just wanted to cuddle up to him because of it. Her whole thesis had been based on hormones and their effect on how one viewed a person. She'd ruined how she'd viewed relationships and even the word 'love'. It felt like a bodily response rather than an emotion to her, her childhood hadn't exactly been rich in love or affection from her parents and then Guy… Oh Guy. He had been the focus of her experiment, but she'd never meant for things to go as far as they had. If it hadn't been for her professor sticking up for her and helping her defend her work, she would've been in a prison wing alongside Guy.

Harleen shook her head and tried to push that regret aside. She rarely talked to Jonathon about it, she'd spoken to Pamela, but she'd learned soon after starting her internship that Jonathon had no respect for her thesis. He thought it was bad science, a bad choice of experiment and a bad subject selection. After his total demolition of her work, she'd vowed never to talk to him about it again. She slipped out of his arms and watched as he rolled over onto his front, she pressed a kiss to his head and went to brush her hair and teeth. She'd gotten over the whole make-up and shower then back to bed thing ages ago, he liked her fresh faced in the morning and as much as she thought she looked awful without her make-up, she'd be as uncomfortable as she had to be if it made him happy.

She found her phone on the counter in the bathroom and saw six missed calls from her mom. She groaned and pouted, she didn't want to deal with her mother. Ever. She normally only called to borrow money and emotionally blackmail Harleen. So she ignored them and went back to bed. She had just gotten comfortable beside Jonathon when he woke and placed a sloppy kiss on her mouth. Her fingers brushed his jaw gently and he gripped her waist tightly. She could feel him getting a little hard as it brushed against her thigh and she laughed gently against his mouth.

"Morning," Harleen muttered between kisses.

"Good morning," Jonathon said lowly and moved between her legs. The sheet slid down their bodies and she moved her hands into his hair to keep his mouth pinned to hers. She moaned lightly as he started to gently play with her boob, he rubbed his groin against hers and she arched against him. She was still quite tired from their night before and her head was throbbing angrily, but she wouldn't say no to any of his attention. Especially when he would be at work whilst she was off.

"You're such a tease," Harley mumbled against his mouth. She let herself slip into this when her phone started to ring again. "God dammit!" She hissed and went to wriggle away.

"Ignore it," Jonathon told her and pushed her back down.

"It's my mom, Jonathon, I can't ignore her, she's already called six times," Harleen replied. She felt his energy change and he moved away abruptly, he grabbed her phone from the bathroom and almost threw it at her. She caught it and kept her eye on him as he stalked around the room. If he wasn't so angry, he'd look hysterical as he was marching around hard and horny.

"Jay-"

"She's done nothing for you, Harleen," Jonathon snapped. "She left you to clean up her vomit, feed your brother and fend for yourself when you were six years old. She hit you, she emotionally blackmailed you. She stole money from you, she tried to force you back to Brooklyn when you started your internship and you seriously think you have to talk to her?"

"She's still my mother-"

"Some mother," Jonathon snarled. "Drunk from your first memory, _paying_ 'boyfriends' every weekend?"

"Alright, Jay," Harleen hissed and her thumb hovered over the red button.

"Leaving you in an apartment for three days because she was too drunk to come home-"

"Stop, she's gone!" Harleen protested. She almost threw her phone onto the bedside table and felt her stomach knot up as she fought with her emotions.

"I don't… I don't mean to upset you, Harl," Jonathon said, cooling off quickly now the interruption had disappeared. Harleen had spent so much time telling him about her childhood and they'd worked through a couple of issues about it, he just couldn't understand how her mother still had power over her after all they'd discussed. He sat beside her on the bed and pulled her to him, he knew she was upset with him, but he was just trying to look after her.

"Babe, I know… I know she's your mother, but she wasn't a mom," Jonathon said gently and pressed a kiss into her hair. "She used you, hurt you and tormented you. You don't need her poison in your life anymore, you've got me."

"And Pamela," Harleen mumbled a few moments later as her mind wheeled.

"Yes, and that man-hating, ultra-feminist, eco-warrior," Jonathon muttered. "You are so much better than her, than Brooklyn. Why on earth would you need to pander to a drunk woman who only calls when she needs your money?"

"I know," Harleen mumbled. "I know." She looked up at him when he lifted her chin with his fingers and she felt herself cheer up as he kissed her lips. She knew he was right. Her mother was toxic, vile and cruel. He was always right when it came to the people in Harleen's life, he was all she did really need and as much as it hurt to admit that her mother was just a parasite, her mother was just a parasite.

She was still thinking when she felt his lips move from her mouth, across her jaw and to her neck. She felt her skin shiver and she shuddered slightly. His fingertips danced across her skin and gently teased her mind from her mother. She shifted in his arms and laid back down on the bed.

"Now, where were we?" Jonathon asked, his voice husky and his excitement started to grow again.

"Why are you so horny this morning?" Harleen whimpered, although her body was betraying her intentions to ignore his advances. "We had loads of sex last night, you can't possibly have any more fuel for that fire."

"I've got the most beautiful, sexiest, loudest woman in my bed and I'd be signing myself into Arkham if I didn't want you," Jonathon purred and nipped at her throat as he covered her body with his. She giggled as he started to touch her a bit more intimately. She was lost to him and how good he made her feel, she was so totally consumed with the pleasure he brought her that she was oblivious to everything around her.

Then the phone started to ring again.

"For fuck sake!" Jonathon huffed and pushed himself off of her. Harleen ground her teeth together and rolled to her side, snatched her phone from the side and tapped her thumb on the green answer button. She pressed the phone to her ear and anger bubbled up.

"What do you want?" Harleen snapped.

"Good morning to you too, Harleen," Sharon Quinzel chuckled. "You should really try being more polite, I can't imagine you speak to those nutters at your stupid job like that."

"I'll ask again, what do you want?" Harleen said flatly.

"Can't I want to speak to my only daughter? Why are you so suspicious of me?" Sharon asked and Harleen could practically feel the smirk on her mother's face. "I just want to know how my favourite doctor is getting on. Oh, that's right, you're not quite a doctor yet, are you? How long till you get your licence?"

"If you're just going to be patronising-"

"Fine, fine," Sharon said and sighed. Harleen closed her eyes, trying to calm herself. She had such little patience now for her mother that she had to be careful not to snap and say something she could later regret. She felt lips on her shoulder and she looked to see Jonathon kiss her skin softly. She shivered and bit her lip as he continued his path from his shoulder down her arm to her fingers.

"I was actually calling to give you some news," Sharon started.

"Mmmhmm," Harleen mumbled, totally distracted by her lover's actions. He nipped at her fingertips and she smiled at him a little.

"What are you doing?"

"I've just woken up, Mom, I'm tired. Can you please just tell me whatever it was that was so important to you?" Harleen replied irritably. Jonathon pressed his mouth against her palm before he shuffled down a little and kissed along her rib cage. She had to suppress a whimper as his hands held her hips tightly, a sharp contrast to how soft he was being with his lips.

"Why are you up so late? It's almost ten in the morning, shouldn't you be at work?" Sharon asked.

"I'm off today," Harleen said breathlessly as Jonathon kissed around her breast, across her sternum and back to her rib cage, making her nipples pebble and stand proud. She felt his fingers twitch against her hips and she bit her lips together as his teeth gently scraped against her side.

"They've already figured out you're useless so they've dropped you?" Sharon said pointedly. "Only working four days a week, and still earning more in a month than I ever have in six."

"No, I'll be working Saturday instead," Harley replied, although she was becoming more and more consumed in Jonathon's actions as he dragged his mouth down the curve of her waist and across her stomach.

"So, this news," Sharon said dismissively. "I've just had a phone call from your dad's lawyer-"

"Oh god," Harleen whimpered as Jonathon gently nipped at her belly and kissed his way down to her groin. She felt heat coil low inside of her and his hands slowly slid down her thighs. His eyes were dark and his breathing was heavy, he looked ready to eat her alive.

"Excuse me?" Sharon snapped. "What do you mean 'oh god'?"

"Dad's not in more trouble is he?" Harleen answered quickly. "I thought you were going to say he'd been beaten up or something." She rolled onto her back and her free hand stroked through Jonathon's hair as he placed soft light kisses along her thighs and the crease of her groin, never quite touching where she wanted him too, but still setting her blood on fire.

"Sure," Sharon said slowly. "No, he's not in trouble. If anything, he's behaving himself this time. The lawyer said to expect a phone call-"

"Holy crap," Harley yelped as Jonathon's tongue found the place she wanted it most and it sent hot sparks through her. Her hand knotted in his hair and she had to make herself concentrate.

"Harleen! I'm trying to tell you about your father probably being released today!" Sharon squawked. "What on earth is going on?"

"Nothin', mom," Harleen urged. "Jay, stop it. Please."

"I'm going to make you scream," Jonathon growled quietly so only Harleen would hear but she let out a little squeak at his words and her breathing came quicker. He knew all of her buttons and she was desperately fighting herself. He clearly knew her too well so he moved back up her body and started to suck on her neck.

"Dear god, Harleen, I'm tryin' to tell ya that ya dad's comin' out today and all you can do is fuck your boyfriend!" Sharon snapped. "If it even is a boyfriend. If you hate us all that much, I won't bother anymore."

"I'm not doin' anythin' of the sort," Harleen replied angrily, her Brooklyn accent breaking through more and more. "Dad's comin' home, fantastic, will he make it 24 hours before goin' back in this time?"

"I love your accent," Jonathon purred against her pulse and pressed his groin against hers, sending a jolt through her. "It makes me so-"

"He wanted you to call the prison," Sharon said. "For some reason he wants to talk to you before the rest of us. You always were the special one, he always put you before anyone. I never understood why and I still don't understand why, but for some reason he would like to speak to you before his own wife or his son."

"Whatever, mom, I've gotta go," Harley huffed and rubbed against Jonathon's groin.

"Harleen-"

"Bye!" Harley snapped and hung up. She threw her phone to the side and dragged Jonathon's mouth to hers. She kissed him passionately and he laughed against her mouth. He laid down against her, he wrapped his arms around her and smirked when she scratched her nails against his shoulder blades.

"You are in so much trouble," Harleen giggled. "I know you don't like her, but… sheesh, that's… that was my mom."

"Yeah, well, you enjoyed it more than you're ever going to admit too," Jonathon replied and kissed her again. She whimpered a little but her body started to calm again. Eventually, he released her and she pushed against his shoulders gently.

"Go have a shower, I'll cook breakfast," Harleen smiled happily.

"Do you not want one?" Jonathon asked.

"You know we won't shower if we go together, I'll have one after we've eaten," she chuckled and pressed one more kiss to his lips before he moved away and got to his feet. He pulled her up before he went to find some clean underwear and pants. He wandered across the bathroom and shut the door behind him, throwing a towel over the rail as he went. He made sure the shower was as hot as he could bear and he stepped under the stream. He lost track of time as he washed, he rolled his shoulders as it eased his muscles and aches of his bones. His little imp had definitely put him through a workout and his anger with her mother made his tense muscles hurt further. Time melted away and he imagined her soft hands moving over his muscles, easing and teasing those knots in his shoulders away. He considered himself lucky for having the most attractive woman in Gotham on his arm, but her undying loyalty was a trait that often led her to trust the wrong people.

He eventually stepped out of the shower, dried himself and pulled on some clean underwear and trousers. He rubbed a towel over his hair and he brushed his teeth before he walked out of the bathroom. He walked down the stairs and into the kitchen, he saw her phone pressed between her ear and shoulder, one of his button up's around her torso and a pair of panties were all that was covering her. She was stood at the stove, cooking breakfast so he leaned against the edge of the table, watching her intensely.

"Daddy, you're coming home!" Harley giggled excitedly. "I know, I just got the call from mom and couldn't wait to talk to you. I know, I know, but you're out. You're gonna stick around for a bit yeah? Good. Yeah, I'm cooking breakfast. No. No. Daddy, stop. Just for me and a friend. I had an issue at work and she stayed and kept me company. Yes, _she_."

Jonathon smirked and poured himself a black coffee and dropped three sugar lumps into the liquid before he made one for her and put it beside her cooking spot. He took a seat on a chair and watched her again as she spoke animatedly on the phone.

"I'll come and see you, I won't stay but I'll come and see you. I've got a few days off work, I'll come down a couple days and we can go for lunch or somethin', but I'm not stayin' with you and mom. Okay, okay, I'll see… okay, see you soon. Love you, daddy. Yep, bye. Bye."

She squealed as she put her phone down and clapped her hands excitedly. He'd never seen her so happy to talk to her family and it made him smile. She quickly dished up some pancakes, eggs and bacon before she drizzled maple syrup over the pancakes. She put the plate in front of Jonathon and kissed him passionately, he gripped her waist and pulled her against him and onto his lap. She straddled him and giggled a little into his mouth.

He knew her dad would let her down again, he knew that he'd be back in prison in just a few days. Nick was a habitual criminal, he would always go back into prison. But Jonathon wasn't going to break Harleen's heart, not with the one member of her family that she wanted approval from. He ran his hands up her thighs to her bum and back down again, enjoying this domestic bliss. His house was the one place they didn't have to be cautious, they could be as affectionate, clingy, horny or emotional as they liked because it was private and away from the prying eyes of the asylum. Here they could be as much of a couple, or as much _fun_ as they needed from one another. This kissing wasn't sexual, it was enjoying each other's company and pure fondness. Even their innocent interaction had them touching each other somehow, they enjoyed each other's skin contact and they found it easy to get lost in each other.

"Harley?" A woman suddenly shouted. It shocked both Harleen and Jonathon, the red headed woman had gotten into the house totally unannounced. She jumped away from Jonathon and pulled her shirt tightly around herself. She watched as he leapt from his chair and he almost through the object at the woman.

"Isley, get your ass outta my house!" Jonathon yelled.

"Guess who they've put in _my_ pharmacy?" Pamela shouted at Harley and Jonathon.

"Pammy?" Harley asked, a bit confused by the sudden commotion. "A bit of notice would've been good, I'm not exactly dressed for visitors-"

"How the hell did you get in my house?" Jonathon snapped.

"Jason Woodrue! They've hired that sleazy creep from Gotham University to work in _my_ pharmacy!" Pamela continued. "And Sharpe knows how I feel about him, knows the issues with his record and he _still_ puts him in my pharmacy! And on top of it all, and this will please you, Jonathon, Bruce Wayne now wants _you_ as his key worker, Harls."

"What?" Jonathon said furiously.


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: I'm so sorry it's been such a long time since an update. Life and Work have been crazy and left me with no time at all to write._

 _With that in mind, I hope people are still interested in this and I apologise once more for how much time has passed._

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Chapter 8

Bruce placed the comb back down on his dresser and looked at himself in the mirror. He had been allowed to shave himself, he'd had a quick haircut and had been allowed full use of the shower. He was chatty, suave and quite relaxed about procedure, he'd tidied away his drawings and his pencils and pens, and he'd made his bed and eaten his breakfast with a smile. He'd been happy to accept his medication and laughed whilst doing so, he'd thanked and complimented the orderly that had handed him pills before popping them into his mouth and downing them with cold water. A gentlemen had visited him with a suit to his measurements and Bruce had taken great delight in checking the material over and taking his time to slide it on. He understood Arkham's clothing had to be functional, but it just didn't compare to the feeling of a new soft button up shirt. He pushed the knot of his tie into place and checked his reflection again.

"There you are," he hummed happily. It had been a long time since he'd felt like himself. The fog felt like it had lifted slightly and he needed to make use of the time he had in control. He had a number of things to sort out and he wanted to make sure he could still do them before the numb darkness took over again. He knew it would come, but this brief hold on reality was enough to give him the confidence to reorganise his life.

There was a knock on the door and Bruce stood by his armchair. He'd asked for one doctor in particular to visit him, he believed she would be the one to help him and he hoped he'd be able to save her at the same time. He double checked his suit wasn't wrinkled and stood by the end of his bed.

"Come in, Doctor," Bruce said and watched as the door opened. In stepped the young female doctor, she was dressed in jeans and a hoodie, her staff pass clipped onto her belt, hair tied back and her glasses planted firmly on her face.

"Good morning, Mr Wayne," Harleen said brightly. He could see her make-up was rushed and an attempt to hide her tiredness. He could see the edge of a bruise on her neck and he frowned a little. What had happened to cause her such bruising? It was more than a love bite, it looked like someone had strangled her. Out of her usual professional attire, she looked even younger. She looked far too innocent and naïve to be in this place, let alone at the hands of that… _monster_.

"Good morning, Dr Quinzel, thank you for coming to see me at such short notice," Bruce replied warmly. "Please, take a seat, I have a few things I need to discuss with you."

Harleen cast her eye over him and tilted her head to the side. Something was very different and she couldn't quite put her finger on it. It was like she was talking to a completely separate man to the one who she'd had to brush and dress just 24 hours ago. She approached carefully and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, Harleen took a seat beside the table and placed her notepad and pen in front of her. She looked around the room and noticed that he had tidied and ordered it to his taste and comfort, the orderlies would have fun figuring out the new system and adhering to it.

"You look very well this morning, Mr Wayne," Harleen commented. She quickly crossed her right leg over her left and waved her foot in the air a little, this wasn't a formal session yet she was still nervous. She knew that Jonathon would be watching her every move and if she even flared her nostrils, he would jump for her throat. She had to admit that Bruce looked very dashing in his new clothing and sanity. She could see why so many women followed him like lambs, but he just wasn't her type. She preferred her men a bit more... Jonathon Carr-ish.

"I wish I could say the same for you, doctor, you look like you've been in a fight," Bruce said and narrowed his gaze to the bruise on her neck.

"Yeah, not everyone here behaves themselves as well as you, Mr Wayne," Harleen chuckled and tugged her hoodie up to cover the mark. She smiled pleasantly at him and froze when he reached forward, pushed the hoodie back and looked at the bruise anyway, he stared at it for a minute before he met her eyes again.

"Did _he_ do that to you?" Bruce asked.

"Who?" She replied.

"Carr."

"Dr Carr? No, no. Why would he? Mr Wayne, Dr Carr is just my tutor here," Harleen stammered and hoped her make-up hid the worst of her blush. "No, he didn't… oh god, I mean no. It wasn't because of anything like… that."

 _"_ _You're a terrible liar, Harleen,"_ that pesky voice on her shoulder chimed in.

"One of the patients yesterday managed to get out of restraints and decided I needed to meet my maker," Harleen continued, ignoring how her conscience berated her. Whilst some of the bruising on her neck was indeed due to Zsasz, the mark Bruce was trained in on was indeed thanks to the passionate night she'd spent with Jonathon. But she wasn't about to tell anyone that.

 _"_ _That wasn't a lie, shut up,"_ Harleen thought angrily.

 _"_ _But it felt so good, let him do it to you again."_

 _"_ _He knows, Bruce knows what you've done!"_

"Of course, I beg your pardon, Dr Quinzel," Bruce nodded and leaned back in his chair. He didn't know how, but he could always spot a liar and he always had been able too. Even if her stuttered denial had been calmer and less flustered, he would still know. The rest of Arkham may not have been able to see it, but he could.

"You put a special request in for my presence today," Harleen said gently. "I'm technically on sick leave right now, so to keep the medical doctors happy this is very much off the books. Hence the… hoodie and jeans. I've got my notepad to write anything that you might want to be recorded or remembered. But I'm not going to take any notes, I'm not working as such."

"I think I can remember you coming to Wayne manor with Richard and Barbara before… before the accident," Bruce said with a frown, as if fighting a fog of madness. "Did that happen?"

"It did," Harley grinned. "Dick and Babs were the only ones who would speak to me when I first started at college. I only visited once or twice, but yes, that did happen. It wasn't long before your accident."

Bruce hummed and rubbed his chin a little, he raised an eyebrow as Harleen shifted in her seat a little bit and changed her legs so her left was over her right. She was uncomfortable, not with him, but physically uncomfortable like her skin was burning her. He was so clear headed and straight thinking. He hadn't felt this well or this observant for years, yet he was having to spend it talking to a doctor. He needed his family.

"What changed last night, Mr Wayne? This kind of change in health and mental capacity is fantastic, but unexpected," Harleen told him. "You've been here a long time with the best doctor's in the world trying to help you and all to no avail. But something clicked last night, can you remember what it was?"

"I'm not certain, but whatever it was, I need to use this time to sort out some things," Bruce said lowly. "I would like you to request a family visit for me, I need to see Richard and Alfred as soon as I can. Also my lawyer, I need to adjust a few things and I need to do them whilst I'm thinking clearly."

"Of course, I'll get onto that as soon as I'm on the other side of the door," Harleen nodded. She scribbled down a reminder for herself but nothing else. She wouldn't betray his trust by writing any of this down, if he was reaching out to one of them, she wanted him to know that they were there to help and not betray him. He was a handsome man, he had been bright and intelligent, a bit of a play boy but generally a good guy. Her friendship with Dick and Babs was on going but she hadn't seen Dick since she'd left College to intern at Arkham.

"Mr Wayne, can I ask one question?" Harleen asked.

"Of course, Doctor," Bruce nodded.

"Your drawings," Harley started nervously. "They're fantastically detailed and graphic, but some of us… you draw as really scary and evil characters. We're not that bad, I promise, we're just trying to help you and our other patients. You also seem to have a special place in your heart dedicated to hating Doctor Carr, you draw him as this insane clown and me as his Jester sort-of girlfriend… why?"

"The fantastic thing about my… situation is that I got to see everyone very clearly," Bruce said flatly, his anger about Carr growing once again. "I had the opportunity to see what was inside all of you and Dr Carr is as wicked as they come."

"Mr Wayne-"

"Call me Bruce, Harleen."

"Bruce, Carr isn't a clown, he isn't evil," Harleen insisted. "And neither are Dr Isley or Dr Nashton. I don't know why your subconscious tells you that they are, but we will figure it out, I promise. But they're not out to get you."

"Jonathon Carr is pure unadulterated evil," Bruce said furiously. "One that you would do very well to cut ties with. He may be your tutor, but you must stop your little affair with him, Doctor, he'll kill you in the end. Or he'll take you down that route with him and you will be no better than a murderers whore."

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Dick Grayson wandered around Bruce's old office. He often came here to think and remember years gone by, to remember how his family had been before everything came to an abrupt end. He stopped walking by the window and he looked out over Gotham city. He'd never wanted the pressure of the Wayne Empire, but he'd tried to do his best. The advisors and people around him had been supportive and helpful to start with, but now things were slowly changing.

Dick was jolted from his thoughts when he felt hands slide up his back and over his shoulders. He smiled as someone pressed up against him and he looked over his shoulder to see his red-headed girlfriend against him. She pressed a kiss to his cheek and moved back again. She handed him a grilled cheese sandwich box, a large coffee and finally she leaned back against his desk.

"You got so lost in your thoughts, Dick, I didn't know whether to disturb you or not," Barbara Gordon sighed.

"Thanks, Barb," Dick replied and took a gulp of his coffee. He looked at the clock and shook his head seeing it was already noon. "I've been a bit… lost this morning. Nothing feels right without Bruce."

"Very true, Master Grayson," a smart British voice said from behind them. Dick looked up to see Alfred entering the room and he grinned at his friend. "I never thought I'd say that I miss his antics with parties and unexpected guests. Everything feels too well-behaved with you at the helm. I should be pleased, but given the circumstances, it just feels odd. Miss Gordon, a pleasure to see you, are you staying long?"

"Sorry Alfred, I was just dropping off some lunch, I've gotta go before dad realises I'm not playing computers," Barbara chuckled. "He wanted me to install some new system onto the GCPD, it's full of holes and space wasting programs so I cleaned it up and improved it. I finished before I came here, but he wants me to double check it all as the original writer said it would take at least 6 hours to apply correctly."

"My favourite computer whizz," Dick smirked. He quickly kissed Barbara and sent her into a fit of giggles. They'd been together since they were 14, but Barb had never seemed to kick the honeymoon phase. They were always quite quiet about it, the public didn't know and they didn't intend it to become common knowledge soon. The Police Commissioners Daughter dating the adopted son of Bruce Wayne would've sparked controversy and scandal, all based on lies and suspicions, but they weren't ready for that.

"I have news for you, Sir," Alfred said calmly. "We've received a phone call from the Asylum-"

"It's a psychiatric hospital." Babs interrupted.

"From Arkham," Alfred conceded. "Master Wayne wishes to see you. No word on Miss Kyle, but he's requested your presence as well as two of his lawyers. The doctor I spoke to sounded most pleased with his progress."

"That's… odd," Dick frowned. "They were told to inform us of any change, not leave it until this point."

"He did say that Master Wayne's key doctor would meet you first to discuss a few things, maybe that's when to bring it up," Alfred advised. "I'm just happy for any improvement. The sooner he gets home, the sooner we can get back to normality. They said you can arrive at any point today or tomorrow, after that just phone them and they'll sort out the doctor for you."

"Thanks Alfred," Dick sighed.

"Oh, the phone call was from one, Miss Harleen Quinzel, an old acquaintance of yours if I remember correctly?"

"Harleen?" Babs grinned. "She's at Arkham?"

"Yeah, we had long conversations about that a while back," Dick hummed. "Give them a call back, Alfred, tell them I'm on my way now. My meetings this afternoon can be rescheduled. The shareholders don't like it, they don't like it."

"Very good, Master Grayson," Alfred smiled. "Send Master Bruce my best-"

"You're coming with me, Alfred, I can't see Bruce without you," Dick told him. Alfred grinned before he left the room to call Arkham. Barbara said a quick goodbye before she returned to the GCPD and Dick slowly made his way down and out of Wayne Enterprises. Alfred met him with the car and they made their way to the Asylum. They were sped through the entrance and searches and taken straight up to Bruce's wing.

"Ah, Mr Sharpe," Dick said as Quincy bumbled towards them. He looked a little flustered but that was typical for the slimiest man that had crawled out of Gotham's gutter.

"Mr Grayson, good to see you," Sharpe said brightly. "If you could come into the office, we can talk about Bruce's… development."

"Of course, lead the way," Dick nodded. The walk to the office was short and when he opened the door, he couldn't help the grin on his face as he saw Harleen sat on a chair waiting for him. She jumped up, darted over and threw her arms around his neck.

"It's so good to see you!" Harleen squealed. Dick hugged her quickly and noticed the glare he got from the other doctor sat in the room.

"Yeah, you too Harls," Dick smiled. "Who's the guard dog?" He nodded his head towards the other doctor, Harleen looked over and waved her hand flippantly.

"Play nice boys," Harley sighed and sat back down.

"I happen to be Bruce's doctor, Mr Grayson, kindly put down the intern and allow her to come back to her senses," the doctor said lowly. "We're here to discuss Mr Wayne, not have a high school reunion. The name's Jonathon car. It's nice to meet you."

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 _ **A/N: If you're still interested/reading, please drop me a review! Remember, this one is totally reliant on your input!**_


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Dick Grayson wasn't a genius like Bruce, but he wasn't an idiot either. He knew Harleen far too well to assume her new persona was totally of her own accord, she'd been competing for someone's attention and the obvious answer was too weird for him. He had Alfred sat on his right, Harleen on his left and then Dr Isley, Quincy Sharpe and Jonathon Carr on the other side, he could tell Harleen and Isley were close, they were attentive to each other and he noticed how Isley would touch Harleen's shoulders and hair.

It was sweet and friendly, but the most telling was the glaring coming from Jonathon Carr. He'd heard a lot about the doctor and his prickly exterior, he'd looked over Carr's qualifications and experience before signing him off to work with Bruce. He had a track record of seeing off interns and young doctors, but there was something other to his anger with Harleen than annoyance to her existence. Whenever Harleen moved or made a sound, Carr was entirely focused on her and he only seemed to waver when he was asked a direct question about Bruce and his care. It irked Dick, he wasn't happy with how Carr was victimising Harleen, but he couldn't say anything just yet.

"The daily records will show you the consistency of Mr Wayne's care and the consistency of his progress," Sharpe said reassuringly. "We fill out records with every interaction and every meal that Mr Wayne has. This sudden return to health is… highly unusual."

"What could've caused it?" Dick asked.

"There's a number of potential triggers, but all of them could be incorrect," Carr huffed. "Without a blood test we won't know what's going on, experimental medication could be affecting him. It's entirely possible he's had some kind of reverse-psychotic break and this lucidity is temporary. Or you can believe it's a miracle."

"Dr Carr, please, don't treat me like an idiot," Isley hissed. "The medication Mr Wayne is on is more than suitable and helped to control his less… expected mood swings and outbursts. I've already adjusted his tablets for this new turn of events. My pills haven't done anything than what they've been doing. Something we all agreed that was best whilst trying to allow Mr Wayne enough mental cohesion to take therapy step by step."

"So basically, Dick, we don't know," Harleen said and touched her friends arm. A movement that hadn't gone unnoticed by Carr. The man bristled and he leaned forward against the table, tense and angry.

"That's… reassuring," Dick smirked and patted Harleen's hand.

"The first test is to see how long this period lasts," Jonathon said lowly. "If it's prolonged we can look at some scans, drop medication, turn up the level of therapy and put some pressure on him. If it's short term… we will just have to wait and see if it ever happens again."

"Some plan," Dick sighed.

"It's the best we have, Mr Grayson," Jonathon replied with a glare. "If you can suggest anything better, please feel free too."

"Jonathon," Harleen snarled. The older man looked at her and for a few long moments, they held each other's furious gaze. "We're as concerned for Bruce as you are, Dick, but right now we don't know what's going on. The change is so sudden and so… unexpected. I mean, just yesterday I dressed him and brushed his teeth… We need more time."

"Fine," Dick said flatly. "Progress is always better, right?"

"Of course, Mr Grayson," Quincy nodded. "Would you like to see Mr Wayne now? I believe lunch is on the way up, I can call the kitchen and they could bring you and Mr Pennyworth something to eat?"

"A coffee would be great," Dick chuckled. "I'm sure Alfred would take a tea. Please keep me updated with any information. Dr Carr, I'll leave Harleen with my email address, I wish to be copied into all correspondence to do with Bruce's health. Even if it's as simple as his protein ration being altered, I want to know."

"As you wish," Jonathon nodded.

"Come to the mansion sometime, Harleen," Dick smiled. "We need to have a good catch up. I need to try and get you onto the Wayne Enterprises books after you've graduated."

"You can try," Harleen chuckled. "I'll call. It's been too long since we caused Alfred grief." She walked up to Dick and they embraced quickly once again. He rubbed his hand up her back and squeezed her hand when they moved apart. He cared for Harleen, she'd been a very good friend to him and Barbara and they'd helped each other through some tough times. But they'd argued when she'd told him about her internship at Arkham and he still couldn't understand why she'd be here. She was wicked smart and sharp as a whip. Why waste her time on people that would never get better?

"This way, please, Mr Grayson," Quincy said pleasantly and went to lead Dick out of the room. The younger man gave one last look to the people in the room before his eyes settled on Carr. The man was silently seething, but was keeping quiet.

"Harleen, I need you down in the pharmacy, things to prepare before Dr _Woodrue_ arrives," Pamela said with a sickened look on her face.

"Sure," Harley smiled only to be stopped by Jonathon grabbing the crook of her elbow tightly.

"Miss Quinzel, can I please have a word? In private?" he said lowly, so quietly that Dick almost couldn't hear him.

"Ugh, fine," Pamela huffed. "Just don't be too long, I just want to sign her off some painkillers so she can go home and rest. She shouldn't even be on site."

"Sorry, Pammy," Harleen replied and went back to her chair. Quincy hustled Dick out of the door and stuttered an apology over the behaviour of his staff. Dick didn't buy it, it all seemed too normal and too standard for Jonathon to order Harleen around like a child. He was concerned and would definitely talk to her about it, he just wasn't sure how much he'd get out of this new version of his friend.

"Sorry about Dr Carr," Quincy sighed. "He's a truly fantastic doctor, his results speak for themselves, but he's not always… he doesn't always have the best bedside manner."

"What's going on between Carr and Harleen?" Dick asked, making Alfred raise an eyebrow at his direct approach.

"A love-hate relationship," Quincy chuckled. "They love to hate each other. Carr's seen off damn near every intern that's walked through these doors. For some reason, Harleen went from a shy meek little mouse to one of the boldest young doctor's we've ever known. He doesn't particularly like her, he believes she shouldn't have made it off the reception desk."

"Really now?" Dick asked. _So they've got everyone in this place fooled_.

"He's meant to be her tutor, but often we've had to ask Pamela and Eddie Nashton to step in because of it, I've never known such determination to hate someone," Sharpe continued. "She'll be as good as him, if not better. I think that's what he doesn't like."

"Sure," Dick replied. "Can we see Bruce now, please?"

"Of course, sir, this way," Quincy smiled.

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"What the hell is wrong with you?" Jonathon snapped once Dick, Quincy and Pamela had left. He rounded on Harleen furiously, he wasn't sure why he was so angry, but he was. Another man had touched her, she'd fawned over him and been attentive to him. He hated it, it made him feel sick. He'd wanted to drag her away and sit her on his lap, put his arms around her and make sure _everyone_ knew who she belonged to.

"Wrong with me? Wrong with _me_?" Harleen asked. "You're the one who's insulted Dick Grayson for the last hour! Jeez, Jonathon, do you like almost losing your job on a daily basis?"

"At least I wasn't fawning around him like some love struck teenager," Jonathon growled and walked towards her. He was imposing, but she stood her ground. She wasn't scared of him. She wouldn't ever be scared of him.

"He's a friend, Jay, you know what one of those is, don't you?"

"So that's why you were holding his hand? Touching his shoulders at any opportunity? You were flitting around him like you were _together_ ," he snarled. "Is there something I need to know about?"

"Are you accusing me of cheating on you?" Harleen asked after a short silence. "I'm at your house most of the week, the rest I spend at Pammy's. I might sleep in my apartment a couple times every fortnight, the rest of the time I'm here. When would you like me to sneak away to Wayne Enterprises on the opposite side of the damned Island?"

"That's not what I meant and you know it," he replied sharply. "Don't treat me like an idiot, Harleen, what happened between you and Dick Grayson?"

"Nothing," Harleen responded. "He was there for me when it all went bad with Guy. He helped me out of a hole and let me use a lawyer to set me up a case if I was ever dragged into court. Dick gave me somewhere to stay whilst he was caught and finally put away. But nothing ever happened. He's not… he's not interested in me."

"Not interested? He was staring at you like a Lion in a Steakhouse," Jonathon hissed. "Look, you're a big girl, I don't care if you've had a… _thing_ before, but just tell me. I don't like being lied to."

"I'm not lying to you!" Harleen snapped. "Because I've definitely got time between work and your bedroom to go off and have an affair with Bruce Wayne's adopted son?"

"I dunno, maybe Pamela's covering for you? I know how she feels about _us_ ," Jonathon said angrily. "Maybe you're just staying with me to get to your licence? I don't know, Harleen, but he looked at you the way I look at coffee."

"Oh give over, Jay, I don't have time for this. My head hurts and I want to sleep-"

"Don't you dare walk away from me!" Jonathon shouted and pushed her against the wall. She tried to push him away but he used his body to pin her there. She wasn't scared, she was furious and she gave him one shove but somehow he just pressed harder against her.

"Get off me, Jonathon," Harleen said calmly, but anger pumped through her veins.

"Tell me the damn truth."

"I have," Harleen replied shortly. "I said get off me. I was with Guy when I knew Dick, and he's not… he's preoccupied with other things between Guy and you. He's just a friend."

"I swear to god if you're lying to me-"

"Jonathon, I have never touched Grayson like that," Harleen said gently. "He's like a brother, he was there during the mess with Guy. One of the few people that backed me up and helped me out when everything went through court. He's an extremely good friend, but not… he's never been _that_ kind of friend. Even if he had been, why would that matter now? I'm with you, aren't I?"

He paused and stared at her for a minute or two. He felt threatened by Grayson, the guy had everything to offer a woman like Harleen and she was naïve enough to believe that he was just being friendly. Dick could give her the life she truly deserved, a life without financial worries and luxury. She could've had so much from him and Jonathon hated it. He hated how angry he was, he hated how much she'd gotten under his skin and how much he wanted to hurt her. That evil little angry voice in his head was laughing and cheering on his outburst. Years of anger management and therapy felt like they were crumbling.

"Yes. You are." He said pointedly and pushed away from Harley. "I'm going home. Are you coming with me?"

"Jay-"

"Are you coming with me?" he shouted loudly.

"Not if you're going to be like this," Harleen answered quietly. "I'd rather go to my flat."

"Fine, be that way," he hissed. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Jonathon!" Harley called as he went for the door. She managed to get in between it and him and she put her hands on the side of his face and looked into his eyes. She couldn't see anything other than anger and it worried her. She didn't know if she could trust him to be alone, but equally, she didn't want to be around him if he was going to lash out.

"Get out my way, Harley," he said quietly, almost growling.

"No, I'm not leaving like this," she insisted. "Why are you jealous of him? Yes he knew me before but that's it. He's got a girlfriend, a very long term and very serious girlfriend. I'm not interested in him. I'm with you. I don't want to be with anyone else."

She leaned up and kissed him gently, he was rigid against her for a few seconds before he softened and returned her affections. He let his fingers rest on her waist but he didn't hold her. He would've gripped her too hard and he didn't want to hurt her. He wanted Dick to leave and never come back, but he wouldn't hurt her. Their kiss deepened a little and she whimpered a little bit making him cave. He pulled her against him and kept his arm around the small of her back, her hands stayed on his cheeks and he let himself demand a little more from their embrace.

They were lost in each other again and Harley marvelled at how quickly he could turn back into the gentle but passionate lover that she was so fond of. His free hand gently freed her hair from its pony tail and ran his fingers through her long blonde locks. He growled low in his throat and she responded with a sigh and he could feel her heartbeat pounding in her chest. She heard a creek and the door opened into the room and Alfred walked in, just in time to see Harley and Jonathon.

"I beg your pardon, doctors, I was just grabbing Master Grayson's coat," a familiar English voice said. The pair jumped and Harleen tried to move away, Jonathon however kept his hands on her waist, a scowl formed on his face and he glared at the older gentlemen.

"Alfred, please don't say anything." Harleen whispered.

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 _ **A/N:**_

 _ **So guys, work and life have been cruel. I have had so much rubbish, so much heartache and so much illness that writing really has taken a back seat.**_

 _ **We all imagine ourselves to be forever imaginative, but during times of high stress - we are not.**_

 _ **I totally understand if there is no interest in this story any more. For the next few weeks I should be able to post more frequently as I'm off work over Christmas (thank god) so for those who are interested, I can promise to post at least once a week (if not more).**_

 _ **Thank you so much for your patience.**_


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: A slightly shorter one today, folks, you'll see why as there's a lot going on here.  
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 _I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas, I don't care whether you have a religion or not, I hope this time of the year has been good to you and your family._

 _I'm still not 100% but I'll be good in the end, life's a testing thing at times. I definitely understand why people go utterly crazy to be honest haha!_

 _Enjoy!_

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 **Chapter 10**

Harleen waited outside of Bruce's doorway with Alfred. He'd not said a single word since they'd left Sharpe's office and the silence was killing her, she didn't know the man well but she could tell he wasn't overly impressed. She saw the door open again and Jonathon walked out with a briefcase and file of papers. He had gathered his work notes and was ready to leave again. He walked towards them and his eyes met Harley's, he seemed to be trying to reassure her without saying a word and she did indeed take great comfort from his presence.

"I'll just let Mr Wayne and Mr Grayson that we're leaving," Jonathon said quietly. He touched her waist and kissed her quickly. He looked round to see Alfred rolling his eyes and Jonathon shook his head.

"Yeah, I'll wait for you," Harley whispered. He pressed his forehead against hers before he stepped away and went to bid his farewells to Bruce and Dick. Harleen looked up to Alfred and felt like she was about to be scolded by her dad for spilling a drink on the carpet. It was everything they'd been trying to avoid, much less being caught out by the Wayne family butler.

"Alfred-"

"Miss Quinzel, I'm not a judge nor am I a jury," Alfred interrupted. "You are an intelligent young woman and I'm sure you know exactly what you're doing. You just seemed so… destined to be a doctor that it'd be a shame for you to risk it all on a curmudgeonly older man."

"I know, but he… he helps," Harleen said carefully. "He gives me hell here, but it helps me to prove that I can be as good as everyone thinks I can be. He's an asshole, but he does it to push me. Outside of Arkham… he's very different."

She could feel her heart clench at the thought of Jonathon and she swallowed a hard lump in her throat. She felt her cheeks blush a little and she shook her head. She wasn't a love-struck teenager, she was an almost qualified doctor and capable of controlling herself. Or she had to appear it. She felt a little bit like a naughty school-girl, being told off by her principal, but Alfred was so calm about everything that it was scarier.

"As long as you can cope with the fall out," Alfred muttered after a pause. "I suggest you talk to Master Grayson too, if he feels your Dr Carr is too forward and too harsh…"

"That would destroy Jonathon," Harleen sighed. "Alfred, please don't mention anything around Sharpe. No one here knows-"

"That is not my business, Miss Quinzel," Alfred replied. "It is up to you to handle that situation. My primary concern is Master Wayne."

Harleen went to reply once more when the door to Bruce's apartment opened again. Dick was stood in the doorway and he looked between the three of them. He looked angry and annoyed, but it was all directed at Jonathon. She couldn't decide whether she wanted to go to her man or her friend, whatever had been said had clearly not gone down well.

"Harleen, I think you and I have some catching up to do," Dick said lowly. "Tomorrow night. Just you and me."

"Dick, I-"

"No, no excuses."

"She's seeing her father tomorrow in Brooklyn," Jonathon told the younger man. "You'll have to choose another day."

"Given the seriousness of the situation, Mr Carr, I believe it's in Harleen's best interests to re-arrange her dinner date with her father," Dick snapped and he squared up to Jonathon. He was a little shorter than the doctor, but broader and more muscular. "I'll send a car to pick you up, Harleen, you've got my number – it hasn't changed, text me whatever address you're at."

"Sure," Harleen nodded.

"I suggest you back down, Doctor," Dick said lowly and he met Jonathon's glare with one of his own. "I'd hate to force the best doctor in the hospital off my father's file."

"Dick, please stop," Harleen hissed. "That's enough, both of you. Jay, back up. Jay!"

Jonathon made himself step back and his lips pressed into a thin line. He was trying very hard not to punch Dick. He was trying very hard to not destroy everything he'd worked for, but that devil on his shoulder was cackling joyously at how angry he was. He could feel Harleen pushing him and he waved her away. He walked back to Dick and pointed his finger into the man's chest.

"You ever threaten me again, Grayson, and I swear to god-"

"Jonathon!" Harleen shouted and pushed him harder. "Go to the car right now! Go." She gave him one last shove and Jonathon stormed away. Harley held her breath and closed her eyes for a moment before she turned back to Dick.

"That's the guy you're sleeping with?" Dick asked.

Harleen just rolled her eyes and walked after Jonathon. She knew that he would be back to being angry and she had to make sure that he was okay and then postpone her visit to her father. Everything had just gotten so much more complicated and difficult to control. It was one thing for Pam to know, it was an entirely different ball game for Dick Grayson to know about her relationship.

She picked up her pace, bypassed the pharmacy and went straight to the car park. She saw Jonathon sat in the driver's seat, his hands like an iron vice on the steering wheel and his breathing was slow and measured. He looked ready to kill someone and she hoped it wasn't her. She quickly got into the passenger seat and pulled her belt across, the silence was unbearable and she knew that it wouldn't matter what she said.

"Jay-"

"Shut up, Harleen," Jonathon growled.

"But-"

"I said shut up!" he roared and snapped round to her. He didn't touch her, he didn't need to. He was furious and for the first time in a very long time, she was scared of what he'd do next. But she knew she'd stick with him, she'd be too worried for what he'd do to himself. They drove away from the Asylum in silence and as they parked in his space near his house, he grabbed her chin and made her look at him. He glared at her and was practically daring her to speak again.

"Jonathon-"

She wasn't quite sure what had happened, but her cheek stung and pain blossomed across her face. She felt herself fall against her seat and she took a couple of seconds to think about what had happened. She pressed her hand to the side of her face and realised that he'd hit her. She took one breath and looked at him for a moment.

"Harley- I didn't mean to-I'm-" Jonathon stammered. He'd hit her. He'd actually hit her.

"You just…" she mumbled and pulled down the sun visor to look in the mirror. She saw the red hand print on her cheek and felt tears spring to her eyes. He'd promised he'd never hurt her, he'd promised that no one would ever hit her again – that her mother would be the last person to ever raise a hand to her. "You just… hit me."

"Please Harley-" he grabbed her hands and she struggled away from him. Hot angry tears poured from her eyes and she opened the door. She jumped out and started to walk away from him. Jonathon followed and tried to grab her again.

"Leave me alone, Jay," Harley said angrily.

"No, don't walk away from me now," Jonathon practically begged. "I didn't mean to I just-I didn't-"

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" Harley screamed. "Just… go away. After everything you promised, everything you told me… you hit me?"

"Let me explain-"

"Never talk to me, don't come near me, don't ever look at me again or I swear to god-" Harleen gasped as reality dawned on her. "I can't… I trusted you, Jay, I… I almost… forget it. We're done."

As she turned away once more and started to run, she felt her heart shattering and she just wanted to be sick. Pamela was right, her mother was right, everyone was right about her. She was just another toy to him, another play thing and she should've known that she wouldn't have matter to a man like Jonathon Carr.

"Don't you dare walk away!" he shouted after her. He watched as she disappeared into the rain and bustle of Gotham. He felt his limbs grow heavy and his chest became tight. He dropped to his knees and rubbed his face with his hands.

"I need you, Harley," he whispered.

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Dick and Alfred went back into Bruce's apartment and took their seats once more. Quincy made a quick excuse and left them alone, Dick crossed his arms and let out a long breath. Bruce raised an eyebrow at his adoptive son and looked at Alfred at the same time.

"Master Bruce, is there anything I can arrange for you to come to the asylum?" the butler asked to break the silence.

"Not that I can think of," Bruce answered. "If my sanity doesn't linger, I don't wish to cause the doctors and nurses here anymore problems that I already have. What do you think of Doctor Carr?"

"He's a prick," Dick snorted.

"Master Grayson!" Alfred said sharply.

"I can't understand what Harleen sees in him," Dick huffed. "He's arrogant, rude, brutish, pig-headed and twice her age."

"You're still with Barbara, right?" Bruce chuckled. "Anyone could think you were jealous."

Dick paused and frowned at Bruce. He wasn't jealous, he was worried. Harleen had never crossed his thoughts in that way, she was nothing but a good friend and he knew she hadn't been interested in him either. He was extremely concerned for his friend, Carr was at least double her age and very jaded, he was obviously a brilliant manipulator and had his claws into Harleen.

"She's my friend," Dick said calmly. "She's been through enough crap, she doesn't need him taking advantage of her too. I'm taking her to dinner, maybe I can talk some sense into her. God knows it's got to be better than just leaving her to figure this out on her own."

"Just make sure she knows she has a way out," Bruce sighed. "If she can't see what he is… how's Tim? Where's Jason these days?"

"Master's Drake and Todd are well," Alfred smiled. "Tim is top of his class in school, he's coping extremely well, Jason… he's Jason."

"He needs a beat down that I'm apparently not allowed to give," Dick muttered. "Bruce, I can't wait to have you home. We… we need you."

"I'm a long way from home, Dick," Bruce said and touched the young man's shoulder. "But I'll get there. How's… how's Selina?" He noticed Dick and Alfred glance at each other and he frowned. He and Selina weren't a steady couple by any means, but that worried him.

"She's been away," Dick answered. "She had some… stuff to take care of, but she's okay. We'll get her to come and see you. She can explain it better than I can and it'll do you both good to see each other."

"She was there at the accident, wasn't she?" Bruce asked, puzzled and struggling with his own hazy memories.

"Yes, she was," Alfred nodded. "One day, sir, we can talk you through it, but it's far too soon yet."

"Of course," Bruce nodded. "Dick, wire Harleen some money so she can go get herself a decent dress and shoes. I'm assuming you're taking her somewhere expensive?"

"I was thinking the Iceberg Lounge, its Oswald Cobblepot new place, it opens tomorrow night," Dick explained. "It's very exclusive and the only cameras will be outside. He's been quite particular about that."

"Is there anything we can do for you outside of Arkham, sir?" Alfred asked.

"There is one thing… it's going to sound absolutely insane, but… call it a project," Bruce smirked. He carefully reached inside his suit pocket and pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper. He opened it and ran his fingers over the detailed drawing. If even a quarter of the monsters in his mind were real, he'd need something strong and tactical. No one else was going to protect Gotham.

"It's this. I call it… the Bat Suit."

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 _ **A/N: I told you there was a lot going on...  
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	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: Another one for you lovely people! Thank you so much for your support, it's so wonderful to see how many like this story._

 _Things will start to pick up pace now and move ahead, we will tie up to Suicide Squad, but even that will be quite AU. I hope you enjoy it!_

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 **Chapter 11**

He'd lost. Again. His sorry carcass was heavy with alcohol, his eyes were prickling from lack of sleep and his chest felt like it was about to collapse. He didn't know what had made him hit Harleen, he hadn't known it had happened until she reacted. It was like someone had taken over his body and he hadn't had any way to stop it. That angry voice in his head hadn't stopped laughing and revelling in the pain he felt. He'd thought he'd drowned that voice with drink, but it still chimed away with it unhelpful rhetoric.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed, he'd ignored about twenty phone calls from Quincy and countless knocks on the door. He didn't want to talk to anyone, anyone but her and he knew she wasn't coming back any time soon. He'd promised her that he would never hit her when he was angry. The day he'd punched a hole in the wall, he'd fallen to his knees and tearfully promised her that he would never lay a finger on her. He'd listened to her weep as she recalled her mother's strict and swift discipline and drunken furore, how she'd learned that the only one who could be kind was her father and he wasn't there often. He'd listened to her when she told him about how her father would smack around her mother for smacking their children around and Jonathon had done everything he could to reassure her that he would never hit her.

And then he'd hit her.

He wasn't an idiot, he knew she wasn't coming back. But this break up hurt. He hadn't really noticed when his wives had left, he'd noticed the money leaving his bank account that was for certain. By the time they'd left, he'd found out their trail of lies and destruction and had switched his emotions off to them, but Harleen… she'd crept her way in and met his challenges with enthusiasm and youthful exuberance. She'd bounced off his gruff, cold exterior and nestled herself somewhere in his chest. She'd gotten to him in a way that no one else had.

"You're a grade one dickhead, Jonathon," he growled at himself. He lifted his bottle of alcohol to his mouth and took another gulp. It burned down his throat and into his gut, he winced a little, but at least it was a different feeling to the crushing heartache he was otherwise experiencing.

 _"_ _You can say that again, buddy,"_ the devil on his shoulder chuckled. _"Two ex-wives and one ex-girlfriend and you still haven't learned that hitting them doesn't earn you prizes."_

"Would you shut up?" Jonathon yelled at himself. "Like I need my conscience helping me with loathing myself even more."

 _"_ _And she was such a pretty thing too,"_ the demon smirked. _"She fit just nicely in your hands. She sounded so nice when she screamed, at least you had better taste this time. Someone more too your… idea of a woman."_

"Oh why don't you just go tug on your own tail?" Jonathon hissed and gulped back another mouthful of whiskey. "Don't you talk about her like that, she's better than you."

 _"_ _Better than you too,"_ it cackled. _"Could've had anyone and she settled for the old, divorced, bitter and twisted miser that haunted the Asylum's walls. You should be in those cells, not the doctor."_

Jonathon grit his teeth hard and went to slurp more drink when he heard a knock at the door. He ignored it at first, before he realised whoever it was wasn't going to stop knocking. He staggered to his feet and stumbled through his house. He used the wall's to help steady himself and for a moment, he thought he saw blonde through the door window. He hurried his steps and wrenched the door open.

"Harley-"

"Yeah, right," Pamela Isley chuckled. "I'm here to collect her things, Carr."

"She can come get them herself," Jonathon snapped. "I need to talk to her."

"No, you don't get to talk to her, you get to pack her things up and let her move on with her life," Pamela replied. "She told me what happened. All of what happened."

"Wait here," Jonathon hissed. "I'll be a few minutes. She's got stuff everywhere."

"Are you drunk?" Pamela challenged. "You're meant to be at work."

"I don't care."

"Well you better start caring, Sharpe's only got so much patience right now," Pamela commented and stepped inside the doorway. Jonathon could've pushed her back out onto the street and locked her out. He was tempted to do it anyway, but he knew that would be the final straw here. So he turned into his home and went up the stairs, he had to concentrate quite hard so he didn't miss a step and eventually got to his bedroom. He dug out one of his hold all bags and started to empty her clothes from his drawers. He folded them carefully, double checked for any of her accessories and slowly moved through his home. He saved himself a couple of things, if she missed a t-shirt or two, she could come and get it.

He found a couple of her pieces of jewellery and placed them at the top of the bag, including a rose gold bracelet and matching stackable rings. There were 6 rings, each with a tiny coloured gem on a simple stackable band, the bracelet was a simple bangle and had the same tiny jewels embedded into it. She'd worn it everywhere, including work a few times but he'd made her promise she would leave it when she knew she'd be working with the dangerous patients. He zipped up the bag and headed back down to Pamela. She was waiting with folded arms and a raised eyebrow.

"I think that's everything," Jonathon mumbled. "Anything else I find, I'll send on."

"Sure you will," Pamela sighed. "Look, Jonathon, no matter how bad you're feeling, she's feeling worse right now. She damn near loved you and you… of all people… you have destroyed her."

"I didn't-"

"Mean to? Want to? She made you angry, right? She irritated you? Or was she just in the wrong place at the wrong time?" Pamela asked. "Men like you made up the majority of my case studies before I left psychiatry and went into medication and pharmacy work. Men who couldn't accept that they were at fault and blamed their girlfriends, wives and occasionally children. Thank god there isn't one of those involved in this messy little affair."

"We always used contraception so-"

"Please stop, I don't need or want to know," she grimaced. "I'm sure I'll be sent on another messenger mission soon enough, thanks for not being difficult. That's the last thing she needs."

"Is she… is she okay?" Jonathon whispered.

"She's got a hand print bruise," Pamela shrugged. "She's absolutely heartbroken and hasn't stopped crying since she got to me. But she'll be fine. I'll make sure of it."

"Tell her that I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"Sorry but… no," Pamela said gently. "You need to do that when you mean it. See you at work. You better call Quincy too, he's furious that you've not shown up."

Jonathon rubbed the back of his head and let Pamela snatch the bag away. He watched her walk out of the door, it was then that he saw her car and a passenger inside. Pamela put the bag in the trunk of the car and got into the driver's seat, he saw a flash of blonde and he didn't think twice. He ran out and tried the door a few times, only to look up and see someone he didn't know. The window slowly descended and Pamela leaned across.

"You need to go and sober up, Jonathon," Pamela told him.

He didn't reply and just watched as Pamela drove away. The rain felt cold against his skin and he let out a roar of anger and pain. He stalked back into the house, locked the door behind him and found his bottle of whiskey again.

"Screw it," he snorted and had a couple more glugs. He drank and drank until he passed out and the pain let up temporarily. He dreamt drunken glorious dreams where he would wake up with his blonde girl in his arms and everything had been forgotten and forgiven.

But they were just dreams.

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Harleen sat curled up on the sofa, in oversized pyjama's and a big mug of coffee in her hands. She stared mindlessly at the television and jumped a little when one of the many doors opened inward. The room was warm, lit mostly by a fire and lined with shelves and rows full of books, DVD's and video games. The TV was massive, the picture quality amazing and the surround sound was perfect. But none of it felt like home.

She felt a blanket being put around her and she looked up to see Richard, Barbara and Pamela all around her. Pamela had a bag in her hand, Barbara was brandishing a box of doughnuts, cakes and pastries and Dick was just smiling softly. She tried to smile back, but it was half-hearted and brought fresh tears to her eyes. It had been two days since her argument with Jonathon but the pain wouldn't stop. She missed him dearly, she missed him with every fibre of her being but she couldn't go back to him. She couldn't stay with another person that thought it was okay to hurt her.

"Is there anything I can get you?" Barbara Gordon asked and slid into the chair beside Harleen. The blonde shook her head and blinked a couple time, a little embarrassed that she couldn't control her emotions in front of these people.

"No, but thanks, Babs," Harleen sighed.

"I got your things," Pamela told her.

"Is he okay?" Harleen questioned urgently.

"He's fine," Pamela answered quickly.

"Pammy. Tell me the truth."

"He's drunk, doesn't know what day it is and is missing you," Pam shrugged. "What were you expecting? He likes a drink, that's well known. He drowns his sorrows and expects you to run back to him to pick up the pieces? No, Harley, he might have _you_ wrapped around his little finger, but not anyone else."

Harleen looked at Pamela before she let out a long breath and slumped in her seat. She missed him so much, but she was using the self-respect he'd helped her to build to keep herself from going back. She wouldn't do it. Regardless of how much it was killing her to be away from him. She felt a fresh sob build up and she felt Pamela's familiar arms wrap around her torso. She leaned her face into Pam's shoulder and let the tears pour once more. She heard Babs and Dick leave the room and she finally returned Pamela's hug, her world was splintering and she didn't know who she could turn to, let alone trust.

"Honey, I'm sorry I'm harsh, but… I just hate seeing you so torn up about him," Pamela said apologetically. "I told you this would come, but I promise… I'm here, Harl', whatever you need."

"I think… Do you remember that I told you about a placement transfer?" Harley sniffed and finally moved to look in Pamela's eyes. "To Blackgate?"

"The one where you worked alongside the prison officers to profile inmates?" Pam asked with a frown as she tried to remember. "And filtering off some to Arkham?"

"Yeah, I might contact my professor and see if they'll still take me," Harleen mumbled and closed her eyes for a second. "Maybe some time away from the hospital will do me some good, it'll be good on my resume too."

"If it's what you want to do, honey," Pamela nodded. "You know I'll write you a commendation as will Eddie and Sharpe."

"They'll ask for one from _him_ ," Harleen sighed. "I just need to get away, put some distance between us. Then I can see if the hospital is definitely for me."

"Of course, sweetie, come on, give me a cuddle," the red head said and grabbed a blanket off the back of the sofa. Harley sniffed and moved to sit in Pam's lap and leaned her body against her friends. Pam pulled the blanket around them both and they settled into a very familiar close, comfortable silence. She knew she was too fond of Harleen, but the young woman was hard _not_ to like and she hated seeing her so upset. They had spent a lot of time together and as Harleen was quite a tactile person and Pamela kept herself away from other people, it had been a little surprising how quickly she'd allowed the Blonde to hug and cuddle her. These embraces were quite common and they both found great comfort in each other's presence. Whilst tactile, Harleen had very few people that she could be affectionate with and Pamela couldn't help but feel smug that she was one of the few that could have Harley's undivided attention and fondness.

She knew pain, she knew how cruel other people could be and in Harleen, she'd found a kindred spirit. Someone else who knew what it was like to be abused by the very people that were supposed to love you the most, those who were supposed to protect you and teach you. Pamela had always found solace in her flowers and plants, but now she had another human that could relate and could understand why their friendship was special. Pamela was about ten years ahead of Harleen in age and experiences and she knew what would happen if the young woman went back to Jonathon now.

"I think… oh Pammy," Harley gasped after almost an hour of total silence.

"What is it, darling?" Pamela replied.

"I think… I think I love him."

"I know, honey, but I'll help you."

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 **A/N: so Jonathon's conscience sounds eerily like someone else I know...**


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: I'm trying to write, I promise! Hope no ones forgotten this one :)  
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 **Chapter 12**

Jonathon pulled up into his regular space in the Arkham car park. He took a moment to look himself over in the small visor mirror and he dragged in a long deep breath. He checked his phone and decided to get out of the car. He slammed the door behind him, retrieved his leather briefcase from the trunk and finally he locked the vehicle. He looked around and saw Harleen's rickety old motorbike and he shuddered at the thought of her whizzing through traffic on the death trap. He headed towards the staff entrance and ignored the other doctors that had also arrived a bit late. He put his briefcase through the scanner, got patted down and had the metal detector waved at him, he logged him in with his security pass and finally got passed security.

"Hey, Carr!" a deep voice shouted.

"What do you want, Cash?" Jonathon called back.

"Sharpe wants you in his office," Aaron chuckled. "He's not happy about your absence."

"He knows where I am."

"Now, Carr, he's told me to bring Waylon Jones out to herd ya if you don't go," Aaron laughed. Jonathon shuddered and jerked his head to the side, stretching the tense tendons in his neck. He held his hand up at Aaron and turned towards Quincy's office. Waylon was a new patient who Jonathon had no hope for. The man was a walking mystery who was slowly turning more and more into an animal. He made Jonathon feel sick, the sight of a partially scaled man was too much and he'd refused the man as his patient. Someone would get through to Jones, but it wouldn't be him.

His shoes smacked against the polished floor and he tried to ignore the shouts and orders from orderlies and patients. This place got under your skin, once you worked at Arkham, nowhere else gave you the same feeling of insanity and chaos. He enjoyed it. He liked never knowing what was going to happen next. Code Red's and Emergency 1 alarms were the icing on a delicious but complex and dangerous cake. The thrill and excitement of a psychopath rampaging the corridors set his blood on fire and he was often first into the fray to confront the escapee. He owned these corridors, he'd worked from the very bottom and he knew every inch of the place. He'd volunteered to be locked up for a few nights to test the night crew for apparent abuse that the patients had claimed. He'd personally assisted with testing disarming devices, immobilisation techniques, breakout protocol and helping to train new staff as to how they restrained people without harm. He was as much of Arkham as the hospital was a part of the city. Gotham without Arkham was city with nowhere to go.

Jonathon shook himself from his thoughts as he got to Quincy's door. He knocked a couple of times and waited to be called in. He pushed open the door and stepped through, dropping his briefcase to the side of the door.

"Sorry, Quincy, I had a personal emergency and-" Harleen was sat at the desk, she didn't turn to look at him, but he noticed that her shoulders were tense. Jonathon curled his hands into fists and had to keep himself calm. He wanted to grab her and shake her by the shoulders, he wanted to bundle her into his car and make her accept his apology.

"Carr, we'll get to that. I need you to sign this recommendation letter," Quincy said calmly, although Jonathon could hear the annoyance in the man's voice.

"For what department?" Jonathon asked, trying not to look at the blonde. He didn't know if he could control himself. He picked up the letter and started to read through it.

"I've applied for a transfer for a five month placement at Blackgate Prison," Harleen said. She also didn't look at him, her eyes focused in on the desk. "They offered a placement last year, but I said no as I was progressing well here. After the incident with Zsasz, I figured it would be good for me to learn from the police about safe and effective restraint and handling procedures."

"Can't we offer that here?" Jonathon asked after some silence. "Cash is the most experienced and qualified person in Gotham to teach someone about handling dangerous people, can't he spare a couple of afternoons a week?"

"Harleen wants to expand her opportunities." He looked up at Sharpe and frowned. "She wants to see if she's better suited to Police operations, profiling, mental health assessments and referrals. That kind of thing. I personally think you're better than that, Harleen, but I'm not going to stop you."

"And what does that effect with the internship and your licence?" Jonathon asked and rounded on Harleen.

"It'll be postponed at least 3 months and a maximum of 6," Harleen shrugged and met his eye for a second before she had to look away. "I'll return after a cooling off period of three weeks and complete my final case studies, 25 hours of supervised sessions and finish off my pharmacy work. Then I'll be out of your hair."

He felt his blood run cold and he made himself put the paper back down on the desk. He didn't want her to leave, she couldn't leave. He needed her. Even if she didn't realise it, she'd become essential to his life and he wasn't about to let her go without a fight.

"And if I decide against my recommendation?"

"Instead of moving over smoothly, Harleen will have to submit a body of work, attend an interview with the commissioner of the GCPD and she would be considered alongside other students and interns from local colleges," Quincy told him. "It could push her licence back by a year, Jonathon."

"Let me think about it, leave the letter with me," Jonathon said. "I'll send it off to Blackgate by the end of the day."

"I had Pamela and Eddie sign it already, it's got my seal, but it needs you as her actual tutor to sign it to give it any weight," Quincy told him. "Don't be an arsehole and delay her just because she's stayed this long."

"I'd like to chat to Harleen about this on my own," Jonathon replied sternly.

"I don't think that'll be necessary," Harleen snapped.

"Now." He growled. Quincy held his hands up and reluctantly left the room. Jonathon slowly turned to look at Harleen and felt a mixture of lust, hurt and anger. He didn't know whether he was going to kiss her, or hurt her again and he just hoped he would keep himself from either option.

"Why can't you just let me be?" Harleen asked quietly. She rubbed her face in her hands and he noticed how tired she looked.

"Harley-"

"No, don't you dare play your mind tricks on me now," Harleen warned him. "I won't… I can't forgive you for what you did. After everything we've been through, after everything we talked about and you… just let me go to Blackgate."

"No," Jonathon whispered. "No, Harleen. You're too good for Blackgate. You'll be bored in a few days, you'll be disgusted with inmate treatment, and you'll be desperate to make changes that you can't implement there. Blackgate is not helping people, it's just locking away scumbags and keeping them out of society's way. It's an under-staffed, over-filled prison and no one inside it is interested in treating the cause."

He didn't want her to go. At all.

"You don't control me, Jonathon," Harleen snarled. "You can't decide for me. I want to get away from here. I can't stay here and pretend everything's going to fine. It's not. It never will be."

"I can't make our history go away," Jonathon told her. "I don't want to. But moving to Blackgate isn't going to help."

"I can get away from _you_!" Harley shouted. "And right now that's all I want to do! I don't want to see you, I don't want to hear you! I just want to get out of here! Just leave me alone, Jay. Let me go to Blackgate, please. Then we can both get over it and by the time I'm back-"

"How the hell am I meant to 'get over it'? Hmm?" he interrupted. "Or did our conversation last week not mean a single thing?"

"You hit me!" Harleen hissed. "That breaks everything, Jonathon. You know that. You encouraged me to break bonds with people that hurt me and you destroyed what we had. I'm going to Blackgate. Sign the fucking letter. I will never forgive you anything if you block this."

"I didn't know it had happened, I didn't think about it, I didn't it you because-"

"Please, stop," Harley begged. She moved up to him and put her hands on his cheeks. She stared at his face and her thumb gently moved over his lips. She smelt of coconut and strawberries, a sweet perfume scent lingered in the air and the warmth of her hands on his skin made him focus on her entirely.

"Jay, please stop," she begged again. "You spent so much time teaching me that I am better than the people that hurt me. This is going to hurt both of us, but I need to go. For both of us. We will never move on if we're both here."

"What if I don't want to move on?" Jonathon muttered.

"Then you shouldn't have hit me," Harleen said softly. Against her best wishes, she leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. It was chaste, it wasn't romantic. It was the only goodbye that she felt was right and appropriate. She lingered for a second before she disappeared out of the room. Jonathon was left stood in place, his eyes closed and his heart pounding.

"Fuck sake."

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Pamela stomped around the pharmacy, fuming at every little thing. She was pissed with Jonathon, Harleen and this new guy who was stood in _her_ pharmacy. He wore a suit, his hair was scruffy and he had a stubble issue on his face. He seemed a little nervous and so he should! Jason Woodrue was a very dodgy addition to Arkham's staff, he was a sleaze ball and he made Pamela's skin crawl.

"I haven't actually touched anything Pamela," he said for the hundredth time.

"Don't lie to me!" Pamela hissed. "I know that you've moved this afternoon's trays. I have a system, okay? Everything has its place and everything happens at a certain time. Stop messing with my pharmacy."

"Pam, they're exactly where you left them."

"I left Waylon's medication on a silver tray with blue tape, why is his dose now on a green tape?" Pamela challenged.

"I've been here all of five minutes, I've been reading the dailies and night reports to discuss some of the amounts and concentrations that you've been supplying-"

"You are being paid to fetch and carry what I ask you to fetch and carry," Pam sneered and walked into Jason's personal space. She was protecting her territory, she'd worked too hard for too long to lose her pharmacy now. Especially to someone with his reputation.

"Actually, I was put on the same job as you-"

"Bullshit, I read your contract six times, you are my employee, my lackey," Pamela interrupted again. "And don't call me Pam. Only people I care about can call me 'Pam' and you are definitely not one of them."

There was a knock on the door and a blonde poked her head into the room. Jason noticed that Pamela immediately softened and she ushered Harleen Quinzel in, the redhead was fixated and Jason wondered if Pamela understood her own behaviour, the closed off and cold hearted persona melted away in the presence of the younger woman. She gave giant 'fuck off' vibes wherever she went, but immediately fawned over this girl.

"How did it go?" Pamela asked the obviously upset Harleen.

"As expected," Harleen shrugged. "He doesn't want me going to Blackgate. He's gonna make this as difficult as possible, Pam, I just…"

"Oh honey," Pamela sighed and wrapped her arms around her friend. He could hear Harleen crying and he stood watching the pair as they wrapped themselves around each other, it was such a natural and easy reaction, he'd heard rumours of Pam and Harley being more than friends, but seeing it for himself was another thing entirely.

"Is this about your referral?" he asked, breaking the silence. Pamela's grip tightened and she glared at him, like a Lioness protecting her pride. Or her cub. She was surprising and amusing to Jason, he would have a lot of fun learning about Pamela as time went on.

"Yeah, I want to add some time in Blackgate onto my resume," Harleen explained. "It would add some bonus points to my internship and make my licence easier to get in the long run, but if Carr decides to be difficult… it's another year. I don't know if I can afford another year."

"Like… money?" Jason frowned. Even as an intern she was being paid a good salary and where she lived wasn't a particularly expensive place to rent.

"Of sanity, of hard work, of getting on with life when your instructor hates you," Harleen said pointedly. "Sorry Mr Woodrue-"

"I'm not your teacher anymore, Harleen," Jason told her.

"It's still weird."

"Jason, go and get the night sheets from the blocks, please," Pamela barked. "I need to talk to Harley."

"Of course, Pam," Jason nodded and rolled his eyes.

"Don't call me, Pam! What did I _just_ say?" She snapped.

"Only the people you care about get to call you Pam."

She turned her attention back to Harley and she rubbed her hair and back, trying to soothe her like you would a child. Jason let out a long sigh and ran a hand through his hair before heading out into the corridor. He closed the door behind him and a smirk grew on his face. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a vial containing bright green liquid.

"Oh Pamela, if only you'd give me a chance naturally," Jason chuckled. He pushed the vial back into his pocket and headed off to start collecting night reports from the various departments of the hospital.

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 _ **A/N: So... Jason... What a sinister little dude you are...  
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	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: All the players are in place now._

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 **Chapter 13**

Jonathon watched the screen in the room and felt bile lowly rise in the back of his throat. His hand gripped his ballpoint pen and he didn't notice the plastic casing splintering under his fingers. He tore off the sheet with his notes on and balled the paper in his fist. The news anchor was parroting on about 'Gotham's most eligible bachelor' and it infuriated him. He could hear his heart pounding in his skull and his blood felt like fire burning through his arteries. It made him angry and broke him further with every second he continued to watch.

"Dr Carr-"

"One moment please," Carr said, disinterested with his patient. His eyes were set on the screen and his mind wouldn't let him leave it.

 _"…_ _they arrived, hand in hand, at the newly opened Ice Berg Lounge and Mr Grayson swept the doctor into the building. Miss Quinzel kissed him on the cheek before she held his hand and they walked into Mr Cobblepots latest endeavour."_

Jonathon was angry, heartbroken and confused all at the same time. He wanted to punch his fist through the screen, he wanted to vomit and scream. The video was paused onto a shot of Harleen and Dick _fucking_ Grayson walking hand in hand into the Ice Berg Lounge, they were dressed quite casually and they looked so… good together. Jonathon couldn't contain his whirlwind of emotions and thoughts. He was crushed and enraged all at once.

 _"_ _This is the first time that Mr Grayson has been seen publically with a partner. Miss Quinzel is an up-and-coming doctor at Arkham Hospital. She's the only intern to survive the Arkham programme for almost a decade and is clearly a very impressive young doctor to have caught the eye of Bruce Wayne's eldest adopted son."_

He'd had long nights with Harleen fuelled by wine where he'd debated the upper tier of prosperity, their lack of concern for the less fortunate and how the Wayne Empire forced itself into every aspect of Gotham. She had disagreed to a point, but she had admitted she'd been friendly with Grayson for a while and that had changed her mind. But they had a shared jealousy of the upper echelons of society. They had it all without lifting a finger, or so it seemed, whilst the rest of them had to work hard from day one.

 _"_ _Mr Cobblepot!"_ Vicky Vale shouted on the television. _"Mr Cobblepot! Hello, Sir, can you tell us what you've got planned for Mr Grayson and Miss Quinzel?"_

 _"_ _Same everyone else that's attending our opening evening,"_ Oswald said. He was a short, rotund man with a long beak-ish nose and an umbrella hooked over his arm. _"We're having a champagne lunch, a tour of the Lounge and then a five course meal before the Lounge opens to the public…"_

"Dr Carr-"

"Just two minutes, please."

"Your hand-"

The plastic shards from his pen had cut into his skin and he had blood trickling from his palm onto the sheets of paper in his fist. He looked down at the crimson droplets and how they moved, he felt a strange sense of calm at the red liquid and he swallowed a lump in his throat. He heard that angry part of him cackling, revelling in blood – even though it was his own, and it unnerved him that such a small act was so thrilling to his fury. He sighed, removed the plastic shards and grabbed a white handkerchief from his pocket and he wrapped it around his hand. He grit his teeth together as the wound burned a little, but he gave himself a mental wallop and looked up to his patient again.

"I apologise, I need to go and get this seen to," Carr said lowly. "I'll reorganise the rest of today's session for tomorrow, Mr Wayne."

"It's nice to see my boy – Richard – happy. Miss Quinzel is a smart and clever young woman."

"As her tutor, I'd disagree, but y'know." Carr muttered. "She's going to Blackgate. Starts tomorrow. I hope they're very happy together."

"Doctor, Miss Quinzel was the bet doctor I've spoken to here. She was patient and she listened to my insane ramblings, she put up with my preaching about your… _relationship_ , I think you owe it to her to let down this ridiculous façade-"

"We've sent word to Miss Selina Kyle that you've requested to see her. Good day, Mr Wayne," Carr said, grabbed his things and marched out of the room. He was not listening to a patient with crippling PTSD and various other ailments. He wasn't taking relationship advice from Gotham's serial Womaniser. He took himself to the medical wing and was just about allowing the doctor to clean and patch up his hand. He ignored the doctors many questions about what had happened and walked out of the office.

"Jonathon!" Shirley called after him.

"What is it, Shirley?" He said tiredly.

"Some of us are going out for drinks, I'm at a loose end with no one to go with…"

"I'm sorry, I'm not in the mood."

"There's a bunch of the juniors going, we're going to Cobblepot's new Place."

Jonathon froze and felt his heart skid to a halt for a moment. Ice Berg? Maybe he could get a chance to talk to Harley. Maybe he'd get a chance to punch Dick in the face and give him reason to go into hiding.

"Actually, I could use a drink or two."

"Good, the bars open, all alcohol is on Oswald Cobblepot for tonight," Shirley smirked. "I tried to get Pamela and Harleen to come, but Pam's practically been living in the Pharmacy again and Harleen's been… busy."

"What time?" Jonathon asked.

"Seven-ish?" Shirley shrugged. "I know the youngsters are changing here and have booked Taxi's to take them to the hotel afterwards-"

"Seven sounds good," Jonathon nodded and headed back out into the corridor. He smiled a little and headed back up to his office to finish his paperwork for the day and then to file an accident report. He was excited. The chance to see Harleen, to try and talk some sense into her and to get under Grayson's skin was a chance not to be missed.

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Harleen looked herself over in the mirror and let out a long sigh. She felt exhausted, she felt like she'd been assaulted by the number of cameras that had followed her and Dick around all day, every nerve in her body was frazzled from being around too many different people and having to put on a show. She just wanted to tell them all to fuck off and then go home and cuddle up with… a cup of coffee and a book. Not a handsome dark haired doctor. No. Not him at all.

She smoothed her hands down her dress and she gave another sigh. She was wearing a black dress that was just above knee length, V-necked and showed off a little cleavage. She had simple black heels on her feet and her clutch purse. Everything was for show. It wasn't her, she didn't _do_ fake personalities and yet Dick was surrounded by them. Always followed by people just saying things to try and get his approval regardless of the morality behind them. This wasn't her world.

This would never be her world.

"Harl-"

"Why on earth are _you_ here?" Harleen growled and looked at the reflection behind her in the mirror. She met his ice blue eyes and she felt her heart seize and drop into her stomach. He looked like he'd slept as little as she had, but he was still gorgeous.

"I got invited out by Shirley, believe it or not," Jonathon chuckled drily. "You?"

"I'm here with Dick."

"That seems a bit rude, Richard seems like a nice fellow."

"Don't be juvenile it doesn't suit you," Harleen hissed. He smirked at her and his eyes slid over her dress. It was new. It was tight on her. It was more expensive than any dress he could've bought her. It showed off the curves that belonged to him. Gave Dick the idea that his hands could stray where they just simply weren't allowed. She was his.

"Nice dress."

"Thanks."

"Love boy buy it?"

"Jealous?" Harleen challenged.

"Of the dress? Of course," Jonathon laughed. "Look, I didn't come here to trade sarcasm and euphemisms-"

"What did you come here for then?" Harleen snapped. She turned round to see him, although looking at his actual face was far more difficult than just staring at his reflection. She wanted to fall into his arms, to apologise for leaving, to beg him to take her back.

 _"_ _He hit you remember?"_

"For a drink," he shrugged. "With some friends from work. I just wanted you… to know that I'll be giving you and Dicky Bird plenty of space."

"So you came into the women's bathroom to tell me you're going to respect our space?" she said slowly with a frown. She didn't believe it. He was incapable of respecting Dick and she knew it. She wasn't sure when, but he'd stepped closer, into her personal space and she wasn't sure how either of them were keeping it together.

"Can I go back to-" She went to push passed, but he blocked her way and brushed a strand of hair back behind her ear. The tip of his fingers barely brushed her skin, but it was enough for a blush to spread across her neck and cheeks.

"Of course," Jonathon said gently. He let his thumb trace the swell of her cheek before he turned and walked away. He had to, she didn't know if she could trust herself to leave him. Her heart was pounding and she felt her stomach do backflips. She wanted to be sick, she wanted to cry and she wanted to slap him. Her brain was a mixture of frustration, sadness and anger and she just wanted to get back to her apartment.

She gathered herself before walking back out into the Ice Berg lounge. She saw Dick chatting to some business owners, she saw familiar faces from Arkham and she didn't have to see his face to know that the awkward shape nearby was Jonathon attempting to make small talk with them. She waved quickly to a couple of friends before Dick caught her eye. She grinned to him and they met in the middle of the lounge.

"You okay?" Dick asked with a sweet smile.

"Yeah, but I need a lot more champagne," Harleen chuckled nervously.

"I saw him walk out of the bathroom, he didn't… he didn't _worry_ you, did he?"

"No, Dick, he just… he wanted to wish us well," Harleen told him. Dick smirked and laughed at that and took hold of Harleen's hand, he took her to the bar and purchased a couple of bottles. They laughed and chatted with some of the other people that were there and a group of them made their way back to a table to enjoy each other's company.

They'd had a couple of glasses of champagne when Harleen noticed Jonathon had been glaring at them, no doubt watching every time that Dick had put his hand on her arm or waist. She knew he'd been seconds from kissing her senseless in the bathroom, but she just hadn't managed to press the right button. She paused and her chuckles faded when she saw he was disappearing out of the lounge.

"Harleen-"

"Dick, I can't-"

"Stick to the plan," Dick reminded her. "We know this is going to take time."

"He's going to-"

"And he deserves it," he told her firmly. "But if you want this to work and do what you want it to do, then you cannot go after him, Harl. You can't. You need to be strong."

"Fuck strong." Harleen muttered and poured herself another glass of champagne and drank it. "Drunk will do it."

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 _ **The game is about to commence...**_


	14. Chapter 14

_Apparently having the flu makes you a really reative writer...  
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Chapter 14

Five months passed painfully slowly, with no charismatic young blonde brightening up the place, everyone seemed to miss a skip in their step. Her melodic laughter had been taken with her, there was no sense of ambition, just daily determination to get to home at the end of it. It trickled through the Hospital like a stream, slowly chipping away at the morale of the place. No one could quite believe how much she'd become a part of the system in such a short amount of time. Even the rumour mills had fallen silent. It was a strange time to be working there.

Jonathon had fallen into a routine of getting to work late, being disorganised and his temper was sharp and explosive. He'd get home, drink a bottle of whatever came to hand and fall asleep on the sofa, wake up and wash and it'd start again the next day. He'd been in touch with Jim Gordon whilst Harleen was at Blackgate, just to make sure she was okay and he'd been more than a little pissed that she'd blown into the prison with her cheery positive outlook and left a trail of changes in her wake.

He was working on about 3 hours of decent sleep a night, fuelled by coffee, a couple of snacks and air. He had taken to the gym and bulked up a little, but it was self-destructive. If he was worried about not snapping his sine with a weight, he couldn't be thinking about Dick and Harley. He couldn't be wasting after the little blonde if he was almost unconscious from kick boxing.

He missed her. Desperately.

He saw her on television, in the women's shit magazines that were strewn around the Arkham's staff room, she was everywhere with Dick Grayson and he fucking hated it. The kid could give her everything she deserved, but Jonathon hated that. He hated the smug little grin Dick gave him whenever he came to visit Bruce, he despised listening to Bruce ask about how his _favourite doctor_ was getting on. Dick would rattle off whatever they'd been up to and Jonathon had to try and not break something. That unhelpful angry little voice in his mind had been getting louder and more creative with it's violent musings. A psychiatrist with a mental health problem wasn't unusual. In fact most of them had something going on, why else would you subject yourself to listening to people with horrific stories and thoughts? They were some special kind of crazy to be that into sadomasochism.

The end of the fifth month came and Harleen extended her stay at Blackgate for a further month to 'finish what she'd started', whatever that meant. That left a trail of paperwork a mile wide for him to do and kept him busy for at least a week whilst they found sudden cover for the work she'd taken sole responsibility for. Breaking the news to Pamela gave him sick pleasure, knowing that one other person was missing the blonde as much as he was. He watched as she went bright red, then turned pale and turned back into the pharmacy, slamming the door with her. The woman was so desperately alone without Harleen and the small amount of empathy Jonathon had for her, disappeared every time she did. Pamela had only Jason Woodrue to turn to and she wasn't doing that very well.

As far as Jonathon was concerned, Jason was doing his best to be a gentlemen. He was polite and courteous, he was attentive to Pamela's needs and did his best to be there for her. He was also slightly infatuated with the red head and she would totally disregard any of his attempts to flirt or ask her out to dinner. That amused Jonathon immensely, watching a man flounder after a woman who was heartbroken for another woman. Pam being gay was as plain as day to him, gay for Harleen was just the icing on the cake and he enjoyed knowing that it hurt Pamela too.

They'd become enemies at work. Snide comments at one another, undermining each other's progress and work. They'd bicker like siblings and block different tactics whenever they could. They found some kind of hilarity watching the other fail and stumble. They had no reason to be civil, they had no reason to avoid mentally sparring when neither of them had any other route to express their frustrations.

The day Harleen returned, he was anxious and tetchy. He, Sharpe and Pamela were waiting for her in the lobby so they could renew her security passes and welcome her back. Even Sharpe had noticed the difference in his two most senior staff members, but they still got results so he didn't particularly care. As the clocked ticked over to 11, the door opened and in walked Harley. Pamela moved first and the pair met in the middle of the lobby. The red head hugged Harley tightly and they laughed and giggled together.

"I've missed you too, Red," Harleen giggled and eventually Pamela moved aside. "It feels good to be back."

"It's good to have you back," Quincy grinned and offered his arms out for a hug too. Harley looked at him for a second before carefully hugging him. He was well behaved and didn't let his hands wander, so she assumed that he was telling the truth for once. As she stepped back, Jonathon shuffled his feet awkwardly, he wanted to grab her and hold her to him, but that wasn't appropriate.

"Jonathon," Harleen said gently.

"Harleen," he nodded and refused to meet her eye.

"How… how are you?"

"I'm fine," Jonathon lied. He finally met her eye and saw the frown. He clearly wasn't, but she wasn't going to interrogate him here. "How's Dicky bird?"

"He's good, thanks," Harleen smiled. He didn't know whether it was honest or not, but that grin was the one she'd saved for him and he just wanted to throttle her until it fell off her face.

"Oh come on, you can't still be that much of an arsehole," Harleen laughed and hugged him tightly. His hands slipped around her and it felt like she belonged again. He let out a silent sigh and softened around her, discreetly pulling her flush against him. He took a deep breath of her scent focused on having her in his arms.

"See, I knew you liked me," Harleen smirked as she tried to move back.

"Just making sure this nightmare was happening," Jonathon muttered and shoved his hands into his pockets as he moved away.

"Believe it or not, it's good to see you," Harleen said and tried to catch his eye again. But he just looked passed her.

"Sure, well, I need to talk to you about Zsasz and maybe starting you with Waylon," Jonathon shrugged. "When Pamela and Quincy have finished with you, just come find me."

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Victor Zsasz had become frustrated and difficult to handle. He'd killed another orderly using nothing but a toothpick, he'd scraped another tally line into his skin and had twisted out of his strait jacket several times. He'd been strapped and sedated for most of his waking hours, Jonathon wasn't sure what Harleen had done to Zsasz, but whatever it was had worked in at least some measure to help with his outbursts. That in turn had set the rest of the patients on edge, a couple of them had tried to take lead from Victor and turned violent, but a short stay in Isolation had reined them back in.

He grabbed a coffee from one of the machines and headed into his office. A brief spell with Zsasz was enough for him today, explaining that Harleen would be resuming her treatment had made him smile and he immediately relaxed and let the sedatives kick in finally. He looked at his pile of notes and shook his head, he didn't even know where to start with that lot. Quincy had gotten one of the juniors to type up some of the less sensitive notes, but Jonathon retained most of them. The stuff around Victor was restricted as he'd used some rather gruesome language and metaphors after his last explosion.

 _"_ _You should've just kissed her, you know."_

"And I really need you spouting unhelpful information to me," Jonathon growled.

 _"_ _And then put her up against the wall and fu-"_

"Shut up." He gulped back a mouthful of coffee and turned on his computer. He stared blankly at emails, he watched a tape of Victor's last session and started to make even more notes on the man that was currently Arkham's most dangerous patient. He heard his door open, but he paid it no mind, whoever it was had no business here.

"I saw Guy…"

Her voice brought him round from his pig-headed fascination on Victor's body language. He looked up briefly and tilted his head to the side for a second before he pushed back from the desk and looked up at her carefully. She'd been working out for sure, her muscles were toned and strong. She had changed shape and the clothes that were once snug had loosened in certain places.

"Why did you do that?" Jonathon asked and gestured to the chair in front of him.

"He was a file I had to work," Harleen shrugged. She took her place in the chair, leaned back and crossed her legs. She looked exhausted, she looked like she was ready to leave the profession entirely.

"So?"

"I've sent a referral to the unit in Midway," Harleen answered. "He doesn't meet criteria to come to Arkham, but he needs help. What I was allowed to do… what I did…. I don't deserve my licence, Jonathon."

"You ran an experiment, you were cleared by the board, you were investigated and given a pardon as it was his own decision to do what he did," Jonathon shrugged. "If it's good enough to get you into the internship here, work at Blackgate and have no stopper in you finishing, why are you getting into this now? It should've been a thought at the time."

"I did… I did what I thought I had to do to get results," Harleen replied quietly. There was a vulnerability there that he didn't recognise. They had rarely talked about Guy and what happened after Harleen had finished her experiment. But something told him she had a lot to say and didn't know who else she could say it too.

"Go on," he prompted. He pushed his cup of coffee towards her and watched her as she nervously picked it up and took a sip. Black with two sugars, they were very similar with some things.

"I used his brain against him, I manipulated him into thinking that love and dependency were healthy," Harleen said. "I made him believe that if he loved me, he would do anything I asked of him. I constructed entirely fictional scenarios and placed a vulnerable man into them, just to see which way he would go. I told him that the blood tests were to monitor his health. I told him that I loved him. That if he asked, I would do the same for him. I used hormones and brain chemicals to turn him into a weapon. And then I dropped him. I tried to fix what I'd done, but… I wasn't good enough."

He watched as she slouched in the chair and ran her hands around the cup in her grasp. She was nervous. She was terrified. What on earth had happened to her?

"When I saw him in Blackgate, he thought I'd come to take him home," Harleen continued. "He was sat like a hopeful puppy in a rescue shelter. He didn't have… all this time and he still believes that he loves me. All this time and he… I dunno… he thinks that I'm his."

"Did he hurt you?" Jonathon asked quietly. He was angry, he was concerned. There'd been no word of a fray at Blackgate. He'd been checking up on her to make sure she was safe, to make sure that Gordon was doing his job and teaching her to be calm and in control around the prisoners there.

She looked at him and her mouth opened and closed a couple of times. She looked panicked and flustered, she was all of a sudden back on her feet and she stammered a goodbye. Jonathon almost ran after her, he grabbed her arm and spun her away from the door. His hand was gentle, but she wasn't going to be able to just slip away easily.

"Harls, please tell me," Jonathon said softly. "I can't help if you don't tell me."

"I don't know why I said anything," Harleen mumbled and focused her eyes on the floor.

"Princess…" he stroked his hands up her arms gently, trying to reassure her that she wasn't alone.

"Sorry, I… this is unprofessional," Harleen said quietly and ran away from him.

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His day was consumed with trying to fix what he could in his own life and around the hospital. If he couldn't do anything for Harley right now, he was sure as hell doing something to make it easier for her in the long term. He arranged a meeting with Pamela and told her in no uncertain terms that Harleen wasn't to know about it. He shuffled around Harley's diary so she had an easy first week back and he worked through his abandoned notes.

When he'd finally gotten home, he had taken some work with him. He'd called up a couple of old police contacts and spoken to them. He was trying to come up with a plan so she had something to work from when she decided to do something. Rain battered the roof of his house and thunder rolled across the city, he wondered where Harleen was. He didn't know if she was at hers or at the Wayne's place. He hoped she wasn't alone, regardless of where she was. He'd gotten through half of his pile of papers when there was a knock on the door. He got to his, took a swig of his beer and pulled the door open.

"Jonathon-"

"Harley," he said as he opened the door. She was soaked to the bone and appeared to have walked to his house. There was no sign of her motorbike anywhere and she'd clearly not gotten a taxi.

"Come in before you get sick," Jonathon ushered and practically dragged her into the house.

"I don't know why I'm here, I just… I didn't know where else to go."

"Was it Dick?"

"No," Harleen assured him.

"What did he do?"

"Just-"

"Please tell me-"

"Jonathon… just… just kiss me."

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 _ **Is this it? Is this together?**_

 _ **Am I horrible?**_

 _ **Only way to find out is leave me a review! :D**_


	15. Chapter 15

_A/N: A little bit M rated, but can be skipped.  
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 _There's a lot going on with Harleen but we are speeding up this story as we go._

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Chapter 15

Her body was cold and shivering, she smelt of damp sweat and city fumes, her clothes stuck to her skin and her shoes squelched every time she shifted her weight. Her make-up was smudged and her hair curled and sodden from the rain. She'd never looked more beautiful and it took everything in his power to not immediately obey her request. He noticed a big shiver pass through her and he pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Jonathon… please…"

He tilted her head upwards with his fingers on her chin, she was frozen, her shivers were getting worse and she was rapidly losing colour from her lips and cheeks. He let his fingertips trace over her cheek and down her neck, he wanted nothing more but to kiss her, but this wasn't a good situation to be in. She needed to warm up, she needed to be in dry clothes and then they could talk.

"Fuck it," he hissed and finally leaned forward and kissed her gently. She immediately pressed against him and her hands ran into his hair. He wrapped his arms around her and let himself fall into their embrace. It felt so good to have her back in his arms, he'd missed her so much and here she was, but it wasn't a happy rekindling, she was desperately holding onto him and she was kissing him like her life was about to end. He could feel her curves against his muscular body, her fingers scraped over his scalp and held his mouth against hers.

He felt them moving and felt the wall behind her and used it to block her to him. It meant he pushed against her, he just couldn't get close enough to her. He grabbed her hands and linked his fingers through hers and pinned her against the wall. She let out a quiet moan and he felt his heart thumping in his chest, he nipped his teeth at her bottom lip and she moaned again but louder and he growled as blood rushed to his groin. She pulled her hands free and pulled at his shirt, just for Jonathon to grab her wrists and he pinned her again. He pressed his hips against hers and her gasp told him that she definitely had felt his growing excitement. The water from her top was soaking his shirt, but it didn't dampen his ardour. It was when she shuddered with cold that he finally broke their kiss.

"You need to go and get in the bath," he said quietly, his eyes dark and his skin burning.

"Jonathon-"

"You're going to get sick, go and bath, I'll find you some dry clothes and put these in the wash," Jonathon told her. "Then I'll get you something hot to drink and we need to talk."

"Sure," Harleen whispered. He didn't let go of her immediately and it took a few moments for his arms to release her. She took a step forward but he saw her shudder and start to fall. He swooped her up into his arms and lifted her off the floor, he made sure he had a good grip of her before he carried her up to the bathroom. He didn't want to think about how long she'd been out in the pouring rain to be this cold and exhausted.

"Do you need me to help or can I leave you?" he asked gently.

"I'll be okay," Harleen nodded.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm cold, not dying," Harleen chuckled. She rested her head against his shoulder until he carefully placed her back on her feet. "Thanks."

"I'll leave some clothes on my bed for you, take your time," he said. She caught his shirt and went to kiss him again, but he put a finger against her lips and smiled sadly at her. As much as he didn't like Dick and he needed Harleen like oxygen, he wasn't about to cheat with her.

"Jay-"

"I'll be downstairs, give me a shout if you need me," he told her. He just wanted to grab hold of her and never let her leave his sight again. He wanted to kiss her senseless and remind her of who she belonged to, but he couldn't do any of that. She was with someone else and he'd already made one mistake about kissing her, he wouldn't let it go any further.

He watched the bathroom door close behind her before he went to his bedroom. His emotions were all over the place, he wasn't sure what he wanted or what he didn't want, but he knew he wasn't allowed to cross a line. He looked through the drawers and managed to find a pair of her leggings and one of his old t-shirts. He folded them and left them on top of his bed. He heard clothes being dumped and he picked up the pile of sodden clothes to wash them.

When he heard footsteps in his bedroom, he made a couple of mugs of hot chocolate. He didn't have any of the sweet things she'd normally add to it, but he did stir in some cinnamon. He headed up the stairs again and frowned when he couldn't hear her moving around anymore. He knocked on the door to his bedroom and opened it carefully before he walked in to check on her, he saw Harleen slumped against the bed, her cheek pressed into his pillow with just the t-shirt on her small frame. He smirked a little and walked to place the mug on the bedside table. He perched on the edge of the mattress and pushed her hair out of her face and behind her ear.

"You're gonna get me in so much trouble with Dicky Bird," Jonathon sighed. "Why won't you tell me, hmm? What are you so scared of that you won't tell me?"

He stretched the tendon in his neck by jerking his head to the right and he grit his teeth together for a few seconds. He was definitely better than this, stronger than this. How on earth had this girl – woman – become so important and so frustrating? After two marriages, he knew better than to get too involved and here he was. So against his better judgement, he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead before he stood up again. He switched on the bedside light, turned off the main light and closed the door quietly behind him.

He went back downstairs and made himself comfortable on the sofa. At any other point, he would've gotten into bed beside her, but they weren't together so he decided to sleep on the sofa. He closed his eyes and was greeted with the memory of her pink, heat flushed body nude in the bath and immediately woke up again.

"I need more beer."

He slept for a couple of hours before he heard someone moving around his house. He was awake in an instant and immediately furious and defensive. He crept from the living room into the kitchen and readied his fists to pummel the intruder into the ground. He pushed the door open and was ready to throw the first punch, when he saw Harleen stood at the sink clutching a glass of water.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you," Harleen said quietly.

"Its fine," Jonathon replied and relaxed his defensive stance.

Then it all happened very fast. She said something, but he wasn't sure what it was because then he was kissing her again and this time it was completely uncontrolled lust from both of them. His hands slid from her waist to her thighs and he helped her bounce up onto the kitchen counter. She wrestled his shirt from him and he pulled open his shirt from her body, sending buttons flying everywhere. Her hands slid over his abdomen and chest, which made him grip her thighs harder. He let a growl slip from his throat and he nipped at her bottom lip, he was impatient and hungry for her, he'd missed every aspect of their relationship and especially the physical side. He felt her fingers pull and tug at his hair and he felt his pants getting tighter and tighter until it he couldn't bear it. He opened his button and fly and he felt one of her hands immediately start to stroke him.

"Are you sure?" Jonathon grunted and pressed his body against hers. She just nodded and kissed him again, he lifted her off the counter and put her up against the wall. He pushed into her and let her grip his shoulders as he moved inside. He'd normally have spent time warming her up with foreplay, but neither of them were in the mood for taking time. She was so tight it took him a second to rein himself in.

"Oh god," she gasped.

"I don't want to hurt you."

"Please, Jay, just do it," Harleen groaned and it broke him.

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Harleen woke to the sound of her phone ringing and it took her a few minutes to realise where she was. She could feel the warm skin of another body and she panicked for a second before her body reminded her of what she'd been doing just a couple hours before. She looked beneath her and saw that she was resting on Jonathon's chest, his eyes were still closed and his breathing steady and easy. He was so peaceful and she'd missed him so much, but she'd messed up. She carefully extracted herself from Jonathon's grasp and she slipped off the sofa. They hadn't made it far, she couldn't remember how many times they'd had sex, but she was seriously sore in several places and had a few new love bites she'd need to disguise. She grabbed her clothes from the dryer and quickly dressed in the bathroom. She brushed her teeth, hair and applied a little make up before she silently made her way to the living room again.

He was still fast asleep and he felt bile rise in her throat, she'd missed him so desperately but she knew she had to leave. She pressed a kiss to his cheek, stroked her hand through his hair and pulled the light fleece blanket up over him so he stayed warm. She grit her teeth together and slipped on her shoes before fleeing from the house. She knew running away wouldn't fix this, it wouldn't fix anything, but it would at least give her some time. She called Pamela and met her a few streets from Jonathon's home, she knew she wouldn't be able to hide anything from her best friend and that she'd be scolded for her night, however she just needed to get away.

"Why, Harleen?" Pamela asked as she pulled up in her pink car.

"I'm just an idiot," Harleen mumbled.

"More like predictable, you're too clever to be an idiot," Pamela sighed. "Come on, get in. I'll take you home before we go to Arkham. You'll need more clothes."

"I still… I couldn't… He… he feels like home, Pammy," Harleen admitted tearfully. "I feel safe with him, I always have done but now..."

"Buy yourself a gun and stay the hell away from that man," Pamela said. "All this little… _test_ of yours has proven is that you cannot control yourself around him, that you're still obsessed with him. Either go back to him or never go there again. There are better ways to feel safe than to invest it into a man."

"That's real easy for you to say, Pam," Harleen said quietly.

"What do you mean by that?" Pamela asked sharply.

"You're an independent woman, you don't need other people, I'm… I'm not like you," Harleen explained. "I need people, I need friends and support. I need… I need people like you and Jonathon who help me make my decisions. Between both of you, I was doing okay."

"One day, Harl', he'll do more than slap you," Pamela said sadly and looked to her friend before she turned towards Harleen's home.

Jonathon woke to the sound of his front door being closed and his hands grabbed at the woman he thought was still sleeping soundly against him. When he only grabbed a blanket, he opened his eyes completely and let his head fall back with a long sigh. He had figured that she might have run away, but after the second round he had assumed she'd at least hang around to say goodbye. He saw she'd put his phone on the coffee table and he lifted it to read a text message on the screen.

 _"I'm sorry xx"_

"I know," he mumbled. He pressed the top of the phone against his lips for a few seconds before he moved to sit up and eventually stand. It was most certainly going to be a very long day.

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 _ **Please review! They really do make a difference and help me write. Let me know if you want more!**_


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

Victor Zsasz was heavily sedated and restrained, it had been the norm for the last few months as his captors saw fit to restrict his movements. He was tube fed and watered, he was allowed an hour of physical freedom in the safety of a confined padded cell to stretch his tired and aching limbs. He wasn't allowed contact with any other prisoner, he was restricted to a handful of doctors and they weren't stupid enough to offer him an opportunity to get his hands on a sharp object. Especially not the smug Doctor Carr. He was top of Victor's list should he ever manage to escape.

His aesthetically pleasing little female doctor had run away and he wasn't best pleased about that. Her gentle, manipulative way of teasing little bits of information or stitching together tiny pieces of his fractured mind was entertaining and appeasing. She wasn't ham fisted or closed minded as the others, she took risks and he rewarded her by allowing her little glimpses into his head. He'd long forgone pleasures of the flesh, the one thing he needed was violence and blood – that was his pleasure.

He'd been dragged into one of the interview rooms and dumped in the chair. Armed guards had monitored the orderlies as they made sure he was secured into the seat. He was silent and patient, the pain in his elbows and back from being cuffed and padlocked into a particular shape that wouldn't allow him the movement to work free of his restraints, kept him focused. They knew him well, it was just a shame that they were learning his tricks.

"Your doctor's coming in, Zsasz, best behaviour and you might get some solid food today," the guard smirked.

Zsasz just stared at him emotionlessly. He wasn't stupid, far from it, he was well educated and clever, he knew that these bullies got off on any reaction so he would keep them from their entertainment. He stayed stoic until the click-clack of high heels filled the air. He lifted his gaze and saw his blonde doctor approaching him, her glasses shoved up on her nose and her hair back in a long ponytail.

"Doctor Quinzel," Zsasz purred.

"Victor, it's good to see you again," Harleen grinned. "I apologise for the extra restraints, as it's our first session back, I wasn't allowed to relieve you of anything."

"No need to apologise, Harleen," Victor said, his voice thick and slurred from drugs. "I heard you got to spend time with my good friend Commissioner Gordon? Is he still a fat, slanderous, piggy eyed, sack of crap?"

"Still catching criminals, ya mean?" Harleen asked. "Yes. He's perfectly well."

"He called me a monster," Victor told her.

"In the eyes of many, Victor, you are." Harleen shrugged.

"But not to you?"

"To me, you're a human that's lost their way," Harleen answered honestly.

"Sweet blood, you put far too much faith in a deranged mind," Victor chuckled. He saw her shoulders hitch at his nick-name and he tilted his head a little, he was curious why it gave her such cause for concern when it had never mattered to her before.

"Why did you kill Mr Jackson, Victor?"

"He is sour, he required draining," Zsasz replied. "Emptying of his lifeblood to sate the soil and the gods that reach for the damned. It was… pleasing, if not rather pathetic. He didn't… he didn't scream like I'm used to. He didn't writhe or beg for life. He just took it. Like he knew it was for a better purpose."

"You apparently said something about him hurting you?"

"He may have broken a couple of my ribs, but I cannot always control what I say in moments of euphoria," Victor admitted. He would've shrugged but the straight jacket and accompanying chains and straps prevented such a movement. "I'm sure you know what that must be like, Doctor, that moment when you're so close to relief, to salvation and release. That moment where it's on the tip of your tongue and you're begging for the fall, that exquisite moment of pleasure and pain and desperation… then… bliss."

"Victor-"

"Whether that be brought on because of another human body, or because of plunging a knife into the carcass of lowest possible living creature," Victor continued, sensing her discomfort. He found her fascinating, but infuriating, she didn't give her secrets away easily and it made him tetchy occasionally.

"Difference is when I find euphoria, it doesn't take the life of another human being," Harleen pointed out.

"Ah, but it can create one, can't it?" Victor mused. "That moment of physical completion just creates more damned souls."

"Is that how you felt?"

"I see the world in a different view," Victor explained. "I was unwanted. My mother tried to cut me from her long before I was due. My father tried to help her drown me in liquor and pills before I could've screamed for help. I was the demon that robbed my mother of her life. She was a shell after being my vessel, just an empty casing without anything to stuff it full again. You know that, Harleen, you know what it's like to live with parents that either didn't want you or didn't care for you."

"You can't always be right, Victor," Harleen lied. "My family loved me and I wouldn't hurt them. Look, I'll cut you a deal, I'll see if I can get you a couple of drugs dropped and some extra free time. I need you to behave yourself, you were doing so well. What happened?"

"The Angel of Doom who kept her slathering hounds of horror at bay decided to leave and allowed them to run amok," Victor replied. Harleen frowned a little at him and scribbled down a couple of notes. Either the drugs were messing with him too much or the heavy-handed tactics of the orderlies and other doctors had pushed all her progress with Victor aside. She watched him as he drifted off into his own mind, he mumbled a little but nothing she could make out or of any importance. She normally could get a good forty minutes out of a session with Victor, but this had barely lasted ten.

"Victor, I'll let you go back to your room," Harleen said softly. "I'll talk to a couple of people and see what we can sort out."

He didn't respond, he barely seemed to register her voice and she let out a long sigh. They still had rapport, but that seemed to be all that remained. He was back to his long whimsical stories and descriptions of his deranged view of the world. She'd almost gotten rid of that and gotten to discussing some of the web of Victor's mind. She stood up and smoothed her coat down over her dress and headed back towards the door.

"Doctor, please do not lie to me," Victor said suddenly. "It doesn't suit you. Your eyes betray the agony of your childhood and the love for a man who you know cannot love you back."

Harleen's blood ran cold and she knocked on the door. There was a loud buzz and the locks started to be opened from the outside. She counted down the seconds until the guards would let her out and then enter to collect the patient. She would monitor them to make sure they weren't being rough and over-dosing him with sedative. She tried not to react, but she knew that he would know the effect his words had had. Victor was clever and he knew people. That's why he was such an effective and successful serial killer.

She kept to her professional responsibilities and made sure the guards were careful with Victor but she didn't accompany him back to his ward, she needed to talk to Quincy and Pamela about Victor, but her mind focused on what Victor had said.

Did she love Jonathon? She didn't believe in love, she knew of it as a series of hormonal reactions to a person, but not that magical bond that her classmates had been obsessed with. But she didn't know if she believed that as furiously as she had before, so much had happened and the turmoil she'd been in since the day she'd walked out, festered inside of her. He'd built her up to be able to walk away from those that hurt her, but he was her weak spot. She'd been pushed around, slapped and hit most of her life and whilst his anger had led him to punch walls and break stuff, he'd never unloaded onto her. He'd promised that he'd never hit her, until he did and then she'd been forced to leave. It hurt so much to be away from him, to keep herself from her drug, but it had been necessary and then she'd ruined all of her determination because he'd noticed something that no one else had.

 _"_ _Don't act like you didn't enjoy it, I heard your screaming, I live in here too."_

"You're just a figment of my imagination."

 _"_ _Don't be dim."_

"You're just that little devil that everyone has on their shoulder," Harleen mumbled. "You're just a quirk of human consciousness."

 _"_ _Why are you so boring?"_ the voice begged.

"And you just want to throw my life away," Harleen snorted.

 _"_ _At least it would be fun, little doctor bitch."_

"Miss Quinzel, are you okay?" a gentle Gotham accented voice said and she broke her intense stare at the floor. She looked up to see Bruce Wayne walking free of any orderlies or Arkham regulation clothing.

"Mr Wayne," Harleen grinned. "It's good to see you."

"It's nice to see you too after such a long time, do you have time to talk in your office?" Bruce asked. "I could use a coffee and you look like you need a cup or three."

"Yeah, sure, I hope all is okay, Mr Wayne?" Harleen questioned and began to lead Bruce towards her office. She wasn't certain if he was allowed to wander around Arkham as casually as he was, but she knew that Dick had been pulling strings with Sharpe. She hadn't questioned it, she'd been too busy with her own life to be worried about Sharpe. She let Bruce into her office and set her notepad onto her desk. She made a quick phone call to the staff at the canteen and ordered some sandwiches and coffee to her office.

"Lunch will be here shortly, Mr Wayne," Harleen smiled.

"You _can_ call me Bruce," he chuckled.

"I'm at work," Harleen smirked. "I had a really quick look through your notes, you're doing amazing. You've had two relapses that lasted a couple days each and your recovery is super quick with minimal use of medication or other therapies."

"I try," Bruce said with a grin. "Who knows, I might be looking at the outside world soon."

"Have you… have you heard from Miss Kyle?" Harleen asked.

"Richard told me he's contacted Selina, but it's down to her now," Bruce admitted. "I know this has all been very… very difficult for her. She's not someone to pester, I think that's what I like about her. She doesn't care for the 'Wayne' name, she runs from pressure and I don't… it keeps me from becoming too restrictive. I can't control her, she's not with me because I'm Bruce Wayne, but equally… I miss her."

"It must have been hard before your accident to maintain that kind of relationship," Harleen sighed.

"Relationships are difficult, you have to decide whether the good times are worth the pain," Bruce said. "Do the good things make up for the heart break? Especially with such different people. It's a lot more work, but I do love Selina, even if she hates me saying it. I think its better when both people want to work for it. But there's a boundary, there has to be respect and a line that must not be crossed. That has to be discussed and clear. If that line gets crossed, you either need to walk or you need to be prepared to wait for it to happen again."

Harleen listened intently to Bruce and she got the distinct feeling he'd stopped talking about himself and Selina. But she didn't know what to say to him, she didn't know how much Bruce knew and what Dick had told him. She just knew that the heavy knot in her stomach was starting to make her feel nauseous. She felt on the verge of tears when there was a knock at the door. Jonathon walked in with two plates of wrapped sandwiches, a holder with two cups of coffee and a couple of snacks.

"I'm not room service," Jonathon huffed.

"You didn't have to bring it, I called the cafeteria, not you," Harleen said flatly. She didn't meet his eye, she couldn't even look at his face. His voice was enough and she wanted to scream at him, but kiss him and tell him everything at the same time.

"Well, I figured I'd save Ol' Sally's peg leg," Jonathon told her. "Mr Wayne, not bothering another young pretty girl, are we?"

"Dr Carr, you should know by now that Harleen is dating my son," Bruce replied easily, ignoring Carr's taunt about his past. "That's a line I will not cross. Besides, I hear that she and Richard are very happy together."

"I'd be happy too if I had an endless credit card." Jonathon shrugged. "Because you're deluded if you think she's there for anything else."

"Jay-" Harleen warned.

"No, no, Harley, let's hear Mr Wayne speak up," Jonathon said lowly, his eyes becoming dark as his anger bubbled up inside of him again.

"You don't know her as well as you think, if that's what you believe her character to be," Bruce frowned.

"I know her better than Dicky bird," Jonathon hissed.

"You just sound like a jealous old man to me."

Harleen tensed and finally looked up at Jonathon. She held her breath and shook her head just a tiny bit, just enough for him to see, but not for Bruce to notice. She felt her heart thumping frantically in her chest and her skin drained of colour, she felt dizzy and panicked. If Jonathon kicked off now, that would be the end of all of their hard work. He met her eye and for a second he looked ready to give up. But then he threw the paper plates, sandwiches and coffee onto her desk, spilling coffee over the surface and chucked the snacks to the floor in a fit of rage.

"Jealous?" Jonathon snarled. "Jealous would be wanting something, I couldn't have."

"Jay-"

"Shut up, Harleen," Jonathon growled and walked out, slamming the door behind him.

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 _ **A/N: Sorry guys! This story is so big, it's hard to keep everything in order. There's so many possibilities and things I want to do, I just hope you guys stay with me so I can continue it.**_

 _ **Thanks for your patience!**_


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Pamela was consumed in her computer screen and wasn't really paying attention to anything else. She was tired and frustrated, but her work was soothing her tired mind. She'd been so busy outside of work that Arkham had become her refuge and it had worked to a degree. Bruce Wayne had been causing her some amount of annoyance as he'd decided to forego all medication, relapsed for a week and then performed another miraculous recovery. She had created a serum that could be put into a cup of coffee to help take the edge of his nervous energy, but he wasn't interested and insisted it would help him get motivated to get out of the place.

As far as Pamela was concerned, he was still in need of serious care, but no one else seemed to believe her. The donations from the Wayne foundation to Arkham had increased, but the promised equipment and security improvements never arrived. Strangely, Quincy had bought himself a brand new car however and raised many eyebrows with it. Same old Arkham, the youngsters that came here believing they could achieve something good, all left because they couldn't hack it or became as corrupt as the management above them.

"Jason, what is this in my coffee?" Pamela asked curiously. The other pharmacist's spine tingled and he paused for a moment before he looked up from his computer. He lifted his glasses from his face and gave her a gentle smile. If only she knew.

"It's a honey-based sweetener," Jason answered. "It's a tastier and more environmentally friendly alternative to sugar."

"Huh…" Pamela mumbled and tested her coffee again. "It's really sweet, but almost… almost minty."

"Yeah, I noticed that too, I don't know if it was meant to be like that."

"It's quite nice," Pam said with a very small smile before she turned away from him and went back to her station. She took her laboratory white coat off and hung it on the corner of her desk before she started to look through her notes again. She sipped her mug slowly, mulling over the flavour and sweetness of the drink. It was unusual but it was quite nice. Over the weeks she'd grown accustomed to Woodrue's milling around in the pharmacy. It had taken a while, but she'd finally allowed him his own work bench and computer.

He also wasn't a total waste of space, he had some good ideas where arranging the drugs and figuring new plans for some of the patients. He was engaging when he was passionate about something and that made her warm to him a little, she would always respect someone when they took their subject to heart and Woodrue certainly did. He worked extra hours over the weekend to let her have some time off, he ran his own chemical experiments for fun and wrote pages and pages about reactions those chemicals experienced. She had certainly come to accept his help, but he still made her feel uncomfortable sometimes. He had an intensity that she'd known once before and it worried her. He was very hot and cold too, he had become a bit cold towards Harleen and the Wayne's, he had attempted to be pally with Jonathon but otherwise he decided whether he liked someone or not based on the appearance of their hair or the colour of their shoes.

However, Pamela was aware that she had long been the same and didn't judge him for it. He was always friendly to her and they rarely argued these days. Something she hadn't wanted, but was grateful for when she and Harleen had had a bit of a heavy night out and Jason took over the pharmacy for her to sleep off her hangover.

"Pamela, what's this email about?" Jason asked and approached her again with his cell phone in hand.

"Lemme see," Pamela replied and took the device from him. "Oh it's… every year Arkham and the city hold a fundraiser ball. It's basically just to get the rich of the city to make unnecessary donations and a PR stunt so it makes the Cobblepot's and Wayne's of the city look like decent human beings. They give money to the poor crazies and overworked doctors and everyone loves them. Despite the fact that most of our violent inmates have been employed by Cobblepot, the mafia families and worked security jobs within the Wayne's various businesses."

"That'll be another car for Quincy then," Jason snorted. "I don't know, I can't be bothered with things like that. Pretending to be interested in people that I have no concern for."

"Well, this year it's also a celebration for Harleen, she'll get her licence during the day and celebrate with Grayson at the ball," Pamela sighed. "As much as I don't want to go, I wouldn't not go with her, god knows her father will be in prison again by then."

"I wonder if Grayson would propose to her? Seems like a lost opportunity if not," Jason shrugged. Pamela chuckled a little and patted his arm patronisingly. He felt himself bristle at her dismissal and ground his teeth together for a second.

"They're not that close," Pamela said to him. "Trust me, Jason, there's no proposal about to happen. She'll be the guest of honour for both Grayson and Sharpe. The first intern to pass the program and get her licence in 10 years, so all eyes will be on her anyway."

"I see." Jason said and walked away, closing the email. "I might show my face, but I won't be dressed up to the nines."

"I've got to take Harleen dress shopping this weekend, it's next Friday but she still hasn't found a dress that she likes," Pamela sighed.

"I don't know why you put up with her, Pamela," Jason huffed. "She does nothing except use your house, eat your food and stress you out."

"She's the best friend I've ever had, Jason," Pamela said angrily. "She's been the kindest person to me, she's been through a lot in her life and she makes me happy. Something I struggle to feel around people. He's important to me, like a sister or… I dunno, I might complain but I wouldn't ever walk away from her. Not without very good reason."

Jason just nodded and sat back down in front of his computer. She was impossible to move on the subject of Harleen, maybe he just had to come up with a different way to get around this problem? If he could just get her away from the ball…

"Isley," A voice barked through the door and Jason snapped his head round to see Jonathon Carr, he had a face of fury and those blue eyes could scare anyone into just doing as they were told. Unless you were Pamela.

"What now, Carr?"

"Why on earth are you trying to get one of my patients from Zoloft to Tofranil?" Jonathon snapped.

"It suits his needs better-"

"I decide on my patients' treatment, you make suggestions," Jonathon shouted. "He already suffers with stomach issues on Zoloft, Tofranil would compound this issue further. Before you start swapping drugs, talk to the file holder. Like with Wayne, that serum? If he has a reaction to that, you are dead meat. Locked up and nowhere to run-"

"Why don't you back off?" Jason interrupted and pushed Jonathon backwards slightly. The older man almost snarled at him and poked his finger into Jason's chest.

"Why the hell are you defending her? She's been nothing but horrid to you since you stepped through the door," Jonathon stated. "You hoping you might break the Ice Queen?"

"No, but Pamela's a far better person than you could hope to be-"

"Are you going to the Fundraiser ball?" Pamela interjected, bored with the noise.

"I have no choice in the matter," Jonathon growled. "As the most senior doctor, Mr Wayne's key doctor and head of the internship program, I have to be there."

"Good," Pamela smirked. "Both of us can be in pain during the whole thing."

"You don't have to be there, I'd prefer that you weren't," Jonathon snorted.

"I have to be there for Harleen," Pamela said pointedly. She saw Jonathon tense and he slammed the door behind him as he disappeared back into the maze of Arkham. She felt a small victory in pissing him off, but felt a little guilty at poking such a sore wound. She knew how much he'd been hurting from what had happened with Harleen, and as much as she was glad their doomed relationship was over, she knew it was festering inside of him.

She went to adjust her computer notes yet again and let out a very long breath, she rubbed the sides of her head and the sound of footsteps alerted her to Jason standing behind her chair. She bit her lip and then turned to look at him with a small smile.

"Don't suppose you could make me another coffee with that sweetener?"

"Any time," Jason nodded.

"You don't need to defend me from a slime-ball like Carr," Pamela replied. "But… thank you."

"I know you don't need someone to fight your battles, Pamela," Jason said gently. "But you don't always have to fight them on your own. You've got Harleen on your side, I'm here too." He brushed his fingers down the side her face and pushed some hair back over her shoulder. He saw her eyes dart away and then walked towards the door to the kitchen.

"Jason… call me Pam."

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 _ **Well, I'm alive guys! I know the fandom's dying and you guys have most definitely forgotten this story by now, but I have finally had a chance to write again. So if anyone's still along for the ride, Swtich is still going!**_


	18. Chapter 18

**_You guys are AMAZING! Utterly amazing, thank you so much.  
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 ** _Have this one hot off the presses! :D_**

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Chapter 18

Harleen rushed through Arkham as fast as her heels could carry her. She had two files under her arm, her laptop bag and a drink in her hands. She was late for a meeting with a team of doctors from out of town, finalising the conditions of her licence and she was starting to panic. She'd been held back by Jonathon for messing something up, but when she left, she still wasn't sure what hadn't been up to standard.

They rarely spoke, she never saw him outside their once weekly 30 minute meetings and their conversations mostly consisted on her trying to get him to look at her and Jonathon calling her out on her mistakes. He was dismissive and snappy again. It was like they'd never been together and he kept her as far away from him as he possibly could. It was her own fault and she knew it, but she just wished she could speak to him.

As Harley came round the corner, she felt her heel give way and she collapsed onto the floor. Her coffee went flying, she landed on her computer bag and her elbow seared with pain. She took a second to realise she was sprawled across the floor and she tried to scramble back up.

"Oh shit, let me help." A sultry voice said and Harleen looked around to find the source of the voice.

"I've got it," Harleen replied as she started stuffing her papers back into the files.

"Sure, looks like it," the woman chuckled. She grabbed Harleen's laptop and a couple more pieces of paper before she stood up and retrieved the broken heel. "That's… useful."

"Thanks," Harleen muttered and got to her feet. She brushed some dust from her knees and winced as she saw how badly broken her shoes were.

"Don't worry about it," the woman smiled. She was tall and thin with dark brown eyes and long blonde hair. She was quite pale, but it suited her and Harleen thought she looked quite pretty. She was also someone that Harleen recognised from the TV, she'd never met the woman before, but there was no hiding when you were Bruce Wayne's most consistent girlfriend. Even with fake glasses and a wig.

"Miss Kyle, I'm so sorry-"

"Please stop it," Selina Kyla hissed and rolled her eyes. Harleen felt herself flush red and she stared at the mess of papers and thing in her hands. She felt inadequate and small by the woman and was relieved when Quincy Sharpe walked passed.

"Oh Harleen," he said scornfully.

"My heel broke-"

"I'm sure Pamela or even Joan will have a blouse and shoes you can borrow for your meeting, but hurry up please!" Quincy said gruffly. Harleen nodded, took her things from Selina and disappeared into the distance. Selina felt a little sorry for the young girl, she had a lot of pressure on her from all sides and the last thing she needed was broken shoes and a bruised chin.

"Mr Sharpe, I want to see Mr Wayne," Selina said abruptly. "I'm his lawyer."

"He's not scheduled an appointment-"

"Mr Grayson said that I was needed to discuss some legal matters with Mr Wayne. About the liability of Arkham should anything-"

"Of course, this way. What was your name again?" Quincy asked.

"Irena Dubrovna," she answered. She followed him through to the elevator and noticed a distinct difference in the areas where Bruce would frequent and those where he was still not allowed to wander. She had been angry that Dick had forced the hospital to allow Bruce to move around unsupervised, she didn't believe that he could possibly be as recovered enough to warrant such a step.

The accident had left more than physically and mentally injured Bruce, Selina had had so many pieces to pick up and take care of and she still wasn't entirely to terms with it herself. She'd stood in front of Arkham's doors a thousand times, but her emotions and memories had fought her back down the road and bridge to Gotham.

"Here we go, Miss Dubrovna, I believe Mr Grayson would prefer if one of his doctors would sit in with him."

"Call Dick and find out for yourself. As Mr Wayne's mental health is greatly improved, he is in charge of all legal issues and therefore you are not obligated to observe this session," Selina said sternly. "Tell Mr Grayson that Miss Dubrovna is with Bruce and see what he has to say. Good Day Mr Sharpe."

He was stunned into silence as he opened the door to let her in. She knew that no woman had dared speak to him in such a manner for a very long time and it amused her to no end. She'd never met the man, but she knew his kind immediately. His dismissal of the young doctor earlier spoke volumes. That poor kid… she had all of Gotham watching her.

"Bruce…" Selina whispered as her eyes fell upon the man. He was sat at a bench, huddled over some sheets of paper. She wanted to run, to leave and never come back, but she couldn't move. Bruce turned round from his desk and for a second he paused, but then he stood up, marched over and swept her up into a passionate and unexpected kiss. He wrapped his arms around her and Selina couldn't help but fall into this. She'd missed him so much and had been so afraid to admit it, but now she was here and he remembered her. His grip was suffocating and he refused to give her an inch to move, his fingertips were bruising but she didn't care. This was the first time in a couple of years that he'd even remembered her name, let alone their relationship and she wasn't going to stop this just yet.

"Selina," Bruce gasped against her mouth.

"I'm here, Bruce," she told him. She felt his shoulders heave and he turned their kiss into an embrace, she could feel something warm and wet on her neck and a quiet sob made her realised what was happening. She rubbed her hands up and down his back and fought her own emotions, a couple of tears dribbled across her cheeks, but otherwise she managed to keep herself in check.

"I'm here, Bruce honey," she repeated over and over again. She felt him wobble and quickly guided him to the sofa, he pulled her down with him and he pressed his forehead against hers. His eyes were closed, but he just couldn't console himself. He slowly started to calm down and felt her hands running over his back and arms, the familiar and soothing motion brought him back under control and he found a small amount of strength to look at her and meet her eye.

"I mean, I know Alfred always joked that I was a nightmare girlfriend, but this is a bit much," she smirked and they both chuckled.

"I've missed you so much, Selina," Bruce whispered. "All this time and… I've missed you so much."

"Me too, I just… I just couldn't." Selina admitted. He understood, he did. He still didn't have any clear memory of the accident, but Selina had been there and he hadn't been able to help her. He cupped her face in his hands again and gave her a lop-sided smile. He froze for a second as a memory struggled to the surface, it was something painful and important. He'd been asking her about something as the cash… was it a crash? But it was just out of his grasp.

"Bruce?" Selina asked softly. "What is it?"

"There's a memory but I can't quite… I can't reach it."

"Let's not worry, I'm here… you're here… please Bruce." Selina said firmly. "Now isn't the time or place."

"What happened, Selina? No one will tell me," Bruce replied. "Dick, Alfred… the doctors… they know what happened to me, but they won't tell me. They keep saying that I'm not ready. They keep telling me that it'll be too much for me to handle."

"They're worried about you," Selina answered. "From what Dick told me, they're fully expecting you to relapse when you know exactly what happened, we've just got you back, Bruce, please don't…. don't just disappear on us again or expect us to push you back."

"Tell me. I need to know."

Selina took a deep breath and took hold of his hands. She looked at him for a few minutes, he looked so well and so handsome again. Those eyes of his were back to being strong and determined, stubborn and pig-headed, all the things she hated and loved about him. But the crash hadn't been simple, it hadn't been just one event, it had been a sequence that had destroyed everything in one fell swoop.

"We were driving passed Wayne Enterprises," Selina started. "You'd been saying we had to talk, it was a conversation we'd both been avoiding and we argued for a little bit before you told me… you told me you knew about… we stopped at the red lights and you looked at me, touched my knee and told me we could make it work. Then all hell broke loose."

Bruce focused in on her words and desperately fought with the fog in his mind to that day. Her words dressed it up, he knew that, they never argued. They fought like cat and dog. They were both too stubborn to just argue, it would've been bad and would've involved pushing each other around.

"A car drove into the trunk of the car and pushed us into a car on the intersection," Selina began. "And then…"

"Something hit the car." Bruce muttered. "It landed on your side of the door."

"Yes, it was a part of the building construction, a metal beam," Selina said quietly. "You tried to drag me out of the car, but I was stuck. You climbed out of the windshield and tried to lift the beam…"

"And then I heard the screaming," Bruce mumbled.

 _The smell of metal and smoke filled his nose and he started to panic. Selina was still stuck in the car, he couldn't get her out on his own, but everyone else was panicking and the emergency services hadn't had a chance to arrive. The screams weren't from Selina, she was unconscious and probably for the best whilst he was powerless to help her, the screams were from the car behind. The front of the car had crumpled and the driver and front seat passenger were slumped over the wheel. There were three children behind them though and their car was smoking more than his. Selina was safe but unconscious, he hadn't been able to see any injuries or blood, the smoke was coming but it was thin._

 _Bruce jumped across the bar and went to the other car, he kicked out the rear windshield glass and crawled into the back of the car. The children had an assortment of bloodied noses and cuts, but otherwise seemed okay. He had to use brute force to pull their seat belts out of the holders and he started to take them out of the car, there was a groan from the front seat and he saw the mother roll her head round._

 _"_ _Wh-my babies-"_

 _"_ _I'm getting them out, ma'am," Bruce said gently. "Stay calm and still, you're going to be fine."_

 _A passer-by grabbed one of the children and he gave them to the woman, she dragged them away from the car as the smoke got thicker and thicker. Bruce then tried to get the parents free, he heard sirens and looked to see fire brigade and police officers running towards them._

 _"_ _Mr Wayne get outta there!" Jim Gordon yelled._

 _"_ _Get Selina!" Bruce shouted back. "We don't have time."_

 _The world went into slow motion as people started to flee. He saw Selina's crushed door being cut open and she was dragged out just as Gordon and the police started rushing everybody away from the cars. Bruce was almost out of the car with the woman when he heard the explosion before it hit him. He was flung across the street as the car blew up. His vision went black and he could hear more screams, there was a weight on his chest but he was too disorientated to know what it was._

 _"_ _Mr Wayne, please stay still!" another voice ordered, but it was muffled like he was underwater._

 _"_ _Selina-" he heard himself say, but he wasn't sure anyone could hear him. The pressure on his chest lifted and he took in a gasp of air._

"Bruce, Bruce honey," Selina said quietly and stroked her hands over his as he zoned out. He'd stopped responding entirely and was entirely absorbed in his own world. She had tried to break him out of it, but he just couldn't escape what was in his head. She was about to press the panic button that was hung on the wall beside the sofa when he suddenly grabbed her wrists tightly and pulled her close to him.

"Bruce-"

"The baby, Selina, please tell me what happened with the baby." Bruce demanded. For a few seconds she was very confused, but then his eyes darted down to her stomach and then back to her face.

"Bruce… I had a metal construction beam pinning me into the car," Selina whispered. "There's no…"

Bruce closed his eyes and another swell of emotion brought him to tears again. Selina felt her heart break, he had been such a strong man for such a long time and hadn't cried since his parents deaths. He'd taken all of is challenges and heartbreak without showing it. He'd dragged Dick, Jason and Tim up with all their kicking and screaming and had treated them as if they were his own children. But this… this was his own child and Selina had no idea how to talk to him about this.

"Do you think I would've kept it a secret? Or that I wouldn't have seen you before now if the baby was still with me?" Selina asked quietly.

"I don't even know how long it's been, Selina," Bruce admitted. "Every night the nightmares, the monsters… they all come back to me in my sleep. The… the clown comes and shuts me down and… and I have to get home they need to see me progressing. I cannot stay here."

"Bruce, you can't… have you told the doctors?"

"I need to be with my family," he answered. "I can't be in this… asylum any longer. I can't watch this happen. I have to stop it all. The Joker… Poison Ivy… they're not… they're not drawings and I have to stop all of this before they're all… real."

"Babe, they're not real."

"Not yet."


	19. Chapter 19

**_So guys, this one was gonna wait another chapter. But the original chapter 19 just felt like delaying and nothing very plotty came of it. So this one is a mega long chapter and one you guys have certainly been waiting for._**

 ** _Thank you so much for sticking by me whilst I've been so unreliable for updates and chapters, I honestly love you all so much. Everyone that reads this, favourites, follows and comments... you're all amazing and thank you so so much!_**

 ** _ps. Happy 1 year, Switch!_**

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Chapter 19

Jonathon felt entirely ridiculous and unwanted as he walked into the lavishly decorated venue. It was one of the many Wayne owned buildings and was used for a lot of conferences and charity events, this time it was to hide the cracks in Arkham's foundations and he had no escape. Normally he could escape, but not this time. He flashed his staff card at the security guards and headed straight to the bar. He got himself a bottle of beer and then headed into the main conference room. It was huge, there was a main staircase at the far end and long rows of tables for the meal, leaving a large space between them and the head tables. He'd gotten in early to make sure he wasn't sitting beside any one that would annoy him too much and to hit the bar.

"Ah, Jonathon, so good to see you," Quincy Sharpe smiled. "And you managed to avoid the reporters outside too."

"Of course, there's more than one way to get in here," Jonathon shrugged. "It's only the females and the big headed upstarts that'll enjoy the walk through the cameras. The local celebrities will slurp it up for their five minutes of renewed fame."

"At least you've made some effort to look presentable," Quincy sighed. "I know this isn't your thing but… we've at least got an intern to celebrate this year."

"Can we not, Quincy? I was having a nice evening with my beer." Jonathon snorted. He noticed more and more people were appearing and he rolled his eyes as they all giggled and chuckled about the celebrity treatment upon entering the room. They'd been given at least a glass of champagne and were moving into their friend groups and cliques. Everyone looked very different out of their work attire and coats, it was a struggle to remember some of their names, but he did his best.

He could hear louder cheers from outside and he watched as Pamela, Eddie and Jim Gordon walked into the venue. Pamela looked… amazing. She was wearing a dark emerald dress with an off-the shoulder sweetheart neckline. It had a deep back and a split up to her thigh. She looked astoundingly beautiful but as she smirked at him and muttered some back-handed compliment to him, he felt his annoyance come back.

Mutton and lamb came to his mind as she floated through the paparazzi and into the hall. Eddie came straight over and patted him on the shoulder before he went to find his place on the tables. Luckily the two guys were sat together and they decided to sit before everyone became too clumped and crowded together. Some of the Gotham elite arrived and mingled briefly with the doctors and staff of Arkham before excusing themselves to their seats. Jonathon was glad he only had to shake half a dozen hands and make a few pleasantries before the music stopped and they were all asked to move to their seats for their special guests.

Jim Gordon took his place at a podium in front of the slightly elevated head table. There were a couple of people behind him, including Barbara Gordon and everyone fell silent as the GCPD's Commissioner tapped his papers together.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen," Jim said in his most positive sounding voice. It still sounded as convincing as a chocolate teapot. "We're here tonight for the annual Arkham Hospital fundraiser, we have a few special guests to announce tonight before we have a quick supper and the dancing can begin. I'd like to apologise for the amount of cameras with us this evening, but it's a highlight of the Gotham Social Calendar and we wouldn't want the rags to be short of page filler."

There was a short rumble of chuckles and laughter as the audience turned their full attention onto Jim. Jonathon swigged from his bottle of beer and caught the eye of a waiter to bring him another.

"Our first guest this evening is the head honcho of Arkham, the one and only Quincy Sharpe. He's worked in the Hospital for 25 years and has seen the hospital transform from a small secure unit for sectioned patients and his hard work has pulled Arkham from the dark ages to the fore runner in the ever competitive and expanding world of psychiatric care. Everyone please welcome, Quincy Sharpe."

A round of applause and the older portly man wandered out to take his seat, waving like the leader of a country. Rather than the money laundering pervert of a failing institution. He pressed a kiss to his wife's cheek and sat beside her.

"Next we have the very generous and charismatic Oswald Cobblepot, he is the provider of all the food and drink on offer for tonight. Any hang overs tomorrow morning can be directly attributed to him and his fantastic serving staff."

Another round of clapping and whoops from a few famous benefactors of the Ice Berg Lounge.

"Representing the Wayne Foundation we have Richard Grayson, acting on his father's behalf, Richard has taken the helm of all the Wayne business, foundations and charity's and has created a new vision for the future care of all Arkham patients."

There was a very loud cheer as Richard walked out, his swanky suit and nice new hair cut probably cost more than Jonathon had made in four years of hard work.

"Our mayor, Harvey Dent is our next guest," Jim announced and he greeted the mayor with a handshake and a pat on the shoulder.

"Now, ladies and gentlemen, we have two guests of honour for you tonight," Jim said with a smile. "To introduce our guests of honour, Mr Grayson will be taking to the microphone." Dick stood and walked with confidence to the podium. He ran a hand over the front of his suit to smooth down some wrinkles and he grinned at the group of people in front of him.

"Tonight is a very special night, ladies and gentlemen," he begun. "Not only is it the glittering glory of the Gotham social calendar, but for the first time in almost a decade, we have to celebrate an intern passing on to be a doctor in her own right. This young lady was a personal friend of mine long before Arkham and has grown and transformed into an innovative, inventive and inquisitive doctor. Capable of taking on the most difficult and violent of patients and helping them to make their lives better. She's a very special person and very important to me. Please welcome _Doctor_ Harleen Quinzel!"

Jonathon looked up at the stairs behind Dick and he felt his heart skip a few beats. She looked absolutely perfect. Her hair was freshly coloured and her make-up let her natural beauty shine through. Her hair was long and loose with her natural soft waves and curls throughout. The bodice of her dress was a deep maroon, a sweetheart neckline without sleeves and a tulle skirt of a slightly lighter red. She looked terrified, he could feel her nerves and as she reached Dick and kissed him on the cheek, the entire Arkham staff cheered loudly. Apart from Jonathon.

"Congratulations, Harleen," Dick said with a smile as she took her seat beside Barbara. "And now… I had no hope of saying this. I don't want to take too long to introduce the next person. They're the most important person in my life, he saved me from a lonely life on the streets. Please give the biggest and warmest welcome to… Bruce Wayne."

The roar from the crowd was enormous and the flashing of lights made Jonathon's eyes hurt as Bruce took a steady and slow route down the stairs, he hugged his adopted son and the pair of them returned to their seats, Dick sat between Harleen and Wayne. Jonathon's eyes didn't leave Harleen, he just couldn't make himself look away.

"Thank you very much, Richard," Jim Gordon said brightly. "And it's very, very good to see you again, Mr Wayne. Now, we've got some food and drinks on their way round and more food will be available on request. The bar is open, free and very well stocked. To the hard working individuals of Arkham, let your hair down and relax. You've earned all of this and enjoy yourselves."

There was another round of applause and people started to move around. Some of the women and a few couples took to the dance floor the second the music started and others went to the bar. He gave one last glance to Harleen before he turned his back to their elevated sector. He couldn't bear to see her looking so happy with someone else, it hurt so much.

Not talking to her aside from work had almost killed him. He'd felt empty and alone, he'd struggled with all of his personal demons and then Wayne had just added to his self-hatred. So he'd retreated to hiding from Arkham, he'd rarely left his office and left everyone alone. He just hadn't cared.

He needed more beer.

A lot more beer.

"She looks beautiful, doesn't she?" Pamela asked as she plopped into a seat opposite Jonathon.

"What do you want, Isley?" Jonathon snarled.

"Well, I bought you a couple more bottles of beer and figured I could join you in the lonely hearts corner," Pamela chuckled. She put two more brown glass bottles in front of him before she swigged from her own bottle. He'd never had her down as a beer drinker, but then he hadn't really believed she left Arkham at night. He picked one of the bottles up and she clinked hers against it.

"Our little girl's all grown up and flown the nest, then," Pamela chuckled. "She can do what she wants now, the world is her oyster. She can go wherever she likes with the qualifications behind her licence now."

"Yep," Jonathon nodded.

"Do you want her to go?" Pam asked.

"You know the answer to that," Jonathon sighed. "Don't make me talk about this, Isley, now isn't the time or the place."

"She's got her licence now, Carr," Pamela reminded him. "As much as I hate you two together, it's destroying me to see her so unhappy."

"Unhappy?"

"Oh come on, you don't buy all this bullshit with Dick, do you?" Pamela snorted. "Jonathon, you're a clever man. Have you ever seen them act like they're in any kind of relationship? You know her, she loves fiercely and with all of her heart. If she was with him, she'd be snogging him senseless right now. We both know that. She could hardly wait for a door to be closed before she was all over you like stink on a shit."

Jonathon gulped back his beer and looked over the room at Harleen one more time. He shook his head and looked to Pamela. He waved his head again and let out a long sigh. He'd seen her with Dick and there wasn't a doubt in his head that she was with the other man.

"What's gotten into you, Pamela?" Jonathon asked.

"Let's just say that the last week and watching Harley has… helped me come to a few conclusions about my own life and I don't want you to make the mistakes I've made," Pamela answered honestly.

"Is this about that creep Woodrue?"

"Jason is nothing to do with this," Pamela replied quickly, her cheeks flushing pink at Jonathon's accusation. He raised an eyebrow at her for a moment and stroked his fingers through his neatly trimmed beard quickly.

"To loneliness," Jonathon said and clicked bottles with her again before they swigged more alcohol. It would at least take the edge off his pain and if he could share sorrows with an unlikely companion, it would at least let him revel in someone else's misery for some time.

A couple of hours ticked by and slowly the crowd became boozier and boozier, Harleen had come to the dance floor a few times to dance with a couple of people but that was it. She'd retired to the seat with Dick and was talking to Grayson and Barbara Gordon when Harvey Dent took to the podium.

"Hello, hello, is this thing on?" Harvey chuckled and tapped the microphone a couple of times, making everybody stare up at him in confusion. "So, ladies and gentlemen, it's that time of the evening to honour some our special guests. First off, we need to celebrate the newest doctor in Arkham's ranks with a long forgotten tradition. So we'd like to ask all of our dancers to clear the floor and if Harleen Quinzel could make her way to the floor."

Harleen looked quite flustered and gathered herself together before she headed to the dance floor again. She saw Quincy and his wife also take the cleared space and she stood on her own, nervously waiting her next instructions.

"Now, the last few years we've had to replace this dance with other nominations, but we can return to form now. It had been tradition that the Intern that passed onto their licence from Akrham would dance with the lead of the internship program, so would Doctor Jonathon Carr like to join Doctor Quinzel on the floor, please, to take part in a long lost tradition. Ladies and Gentlemen, this is the most important day of Doctor Quinzel's life, so please feel free to join in the dancing as the music progresses."

Jonathon appeared from the crowd and Harleen felt her breath just vanish. She hadn't quite seen him all evening and here he was, striding towards her. He was gorgeous, he was so handsome and she felt her stomach turn over. His beard was freshly trimmed and his hair swept back and lightly gelled. His suit was black with red piping along the lapel and seams, he wore a black button up underneath with a burgundy tie. Even when she was wearing heels, he was taller than her but she made herself avoid his gaze.

There was an awkward moment as the music started to play again and neither of them knew how to approach each other. Eventually Jonathon offered his hand and Harleen took it, making sure she didn't even attempt to push her fingers through his. She stepped a little closer and slid her hand up his arm to his shoulder, her breath caught in her throat as his hand came to settle on her waist. This was the most contact they'd had in months and the pressure in her head made her want to throw up. He started to move to the sway of the music and she allowed herself to be followed. There was still space between them, but it took every inch of willpower for her not to lean into him.

"Hi," Jonathon said quietly.

"Hey," Harleen replied and met his eye for a fraction of a second before she had to look away again. She caught Pamela's eye, but the woman just smirked at her and let her carry on.

 _Come up to meet you  
Tell you I'm sorry  
You don't know how lovely you are  
I had to find you  
Tell you I need you  
Tell you I set you apart_

They danced in silence for the first couple of minutes, Harleen trying to hold back her emotions and Jonathon just trying to not kiss her and beg for forgiveness. Their hearts were thumping wildly and they could both feel all of the eyes upon them. Their arguments and hatred for one another had consumed Arkham and wallowed up the other members of staff with rumours and whispers. The music picked up a little and he discreetly pulled her a little closer and Harley moved easily for him. She leaned her head forward and Jonathon pressed his cheek against her hair. Other couples joined them and started to dance around them, giving them a little bit of breathing room so all eyes weren't just on them.

"I've missed you," Harleen whispered.

"You've no idea, princess," Jonathon replied quietly into her ear so only she could hear. He let go of her hand and placed his own upon her waist and her free hand rested on his chest as her other went to the back of his neck.

 _I was just guessing at numbers and figures  
Pulling your puzzles apart  
Questions of science, science and progress  
Do not speak as loud as my heart_

 _Tell me you love me  
Come back and haunt me  
Oh and I rush to the start  
Running in circles, chasing our tails  
Coming back as we are_

They finally met each other's eye and neither could look away. She could see pain and sadness, anger and regret and he could see a lot little girl that didn't know where else she could go. He lifted his hand again and tilted her chin up slightly and gave her a lopsided smirk. He then leant forward and kissed her. Harleen froze for a couple of seconds before she fell into it and looped her arms around his neck. He held her tight against him and wrapped his arms around her, as the kiss became more passionate and emotional, one of his hands knotted in her hair and he pinned her against him so she couldn't escape.

He couldn't lose her again.

It was such a relief, such a release to be back in his arms, she couldn't help but let the tears fall. She was safe in his arms and she knew she had a lot of explaining to do, but she didn't care. She didn't give a damn about how cliché this was, they'd always hidden behind cliché anyway.

As the song came to an end, Jonathon broke the kiss and looked her in the eye again. She leaned up to kiss him one more time before they both realised that a number of people were watching them.

"Slap me, Harls," Jonathon muttered.

"What?"

"Slap me," he told her.

"Follow me." She paused for a second, pushed away from him and slapped him. She gathered up her skirt and ran out of the room down on of the corridors. He rubbed his cheek and gruffly tugged at the lapel of his jacket before he went to his bottle of beer. He swigged it and refused to entertain Pamela's smirk before he also went down the same corridor, he ignored the whispers and people trying to talk to him. They could deal with that later on.

He was stalking through the darker passages when someone grabbed a handful of his shirt and jacket. He was about ready to throw a punch when he saw Harleen behind a corner, she pulled him down for another kiss and he pinned himself against her and the wall. He grabbed hold of her and growled a little as her hands ran through his hair. A few minutes passed and they both jumped when they heard footsteps, but Jonathon didn't let go of Harleen.

"Grayson." He said lowly.

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 ** _So... it's taken a while right?_**

 ** _I will warn you now about the next chapter, these two monsters are back together. But there is a lot of plot too. I will make sure it's all easy to seperate for those who don't wish to read about these two getting back together._**

 ** _The song used is The Scientist by Coldplay, it helped me with the timing and writing of the piece. It's an amazing song from Coldplay's earlier and best works._**

 ** _Thanks guys! Show our lovely couple a bit of love with a review! :D_**


	20. Chapter 20

**_WARNING_** _there is some *shenanigans* in this chapter, starts after the page break and finishes at the next break just so people can avoid if they wish._

 _Plotty stuff either side though._

 _Have fun!_

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Chapter 20

Jonathon stood between Harleen and Dick, he was ready to fight with Dick, he wasn't going to let Harleen slip away now. He'd just gotten her back, he'd just thrown his entire reputation on the line and kissed her in front of a room of people that could have him completely blacklisted by nearly every psychiatric unit in the United States. He was not going to let her walk away because she was scared.

"Look, Dick, if you're gonna start-"

"It's about time, Jonathon," Dick chuckled. "There's a car out the back, I figured you didn't want to walk out in front of everybody. I'll distract the vultures in the other room."

"But-"

"She'll explain everything, I'm sure, just go." Dick said with a smile. "Just... look after her, do not hurt her ever again. Harleen, give me a call when you're home and sorted. Or whenever you can. Bruce will be… back to Arkham tomorrow as we agreed."

"Thanks, Dick," Harleen smiled. She hugged her friend quickly before he left to play the concerned boyfriend. Jonathon faced her and held his hand out to her, she grabbed his hand immediately and they interlinked their fingers. He pulled her through the conference building and out to the back, they saw a car and the driver waved at them. Jonathon held the door open for Harleen and she carefully took her seat, he gave the driver his address and got in beside her. The car started to drive away from the Wayne place and Harleen dragged Jonathon back to her, kissing him hard and holding onto his jacket as tightly as she could.

Dick walked back into the busy room and saw Pamela heading towards him, she seemed a little worried and he wanted to make sure she was okay. He knew her feelings towards Jonathon and Harleen being together, but she'd agreed that Harleen was entirely miserable and lonely without the man and that hurt Pamela too.

"Are they?" Pamela started.

"They're off to his place," Dick said quietly.

"Was she okay?"

"She seems to be, I better go talk to Sharpe, she's gonna call when they get home and I'm sure she'll contact you too." Dick answered. "They're… they're going to need you, Pamela. You know that, right? There's going to be a lot of problems when it all comes out into the open, they're both going to need you to support them through it."

"We'll see about that, she knows I'm always here for her," Pamela replied.

"You really care for her don't you?" Dick sighed.

"More than she'd ever understand," Pamela admitted. "More than anyone would understand. I've just gotten off a call with a colleague from the hospital, he's asked me to take a look at something on my way home from here. So, if you don't mind, Mr Grayson."

"Of course, take care of yourself, Miss Isley," Dick smiled and watched her move quietly like a ghost through the crowd. He felt for the woman, anyone could see how much she cared for Harleen. Except Harleen.

Pamela felt her heart ache and as she headed out to the awaiting taxis, she just wanted to scream and shout. Watching Harleen walk off with that man yet again had nearly killed her. She knew she could never say to Harleen what she wanted to, it was a step too far when the younger woman already knew and wanted her own path, but it didn't stop the pain in Pamela.

"Arkham Psychiatric Hospital please," Pamela ordered and she watched the glittering lights and noise of the Gala fade away.

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Jonathon could barely keep his hands off Harleen as they travelled from the Wayne Corporations offices to his house. The cab driver had to ask them several times to knock it off, but they couldn't stop. They'd been apart far too long and the flood gates had been opened, the driver didn't stop to pick up cash, claiming he'd bill it to Grayson and Jonathon grabbed his keys from his pocket. For the few seconds they had to split apart so Jonathon could let them into the house and lock the door behind him, Harleen pressed up against him, trying to get as close as possible. The second the door was locked, he grabbed her and almost threw her against it.

He leaned against her as they kissed and gripped at the bodice of her dress. The smooth satin set his senses into over drive and sparked the fire higher and higher. Her skin was pale against the colour of her dress, but she had a red flush across her neck, chest and face. Her hands grabbed and gripped at his shirt and jacket and tugged at his hair. Her heart was pounding, her brain full of noise and emotions and her body burned at the feel of him pressing against her.

She pulled his tie loose of his collar and pushed the jacket down off his arms. She felt him loop his arms around her and he lifted her up off her feet. He carried her up the stairs, her mouth peppered kisses up his neck and across his jaw. He took her to his room and he set her onto her feet. She toed off her shoes and the red patent heels clattered to the floor, his hands rested on her hips and she put her hand on his arms. It was the sweetest kiss they'd shared since they'd left the dance floor at the event, it lingered and when they broke apart, she rested her forehead against his lips. They stood for a moment, taking it all in before they looked up at each other again.

"I missed you," Jonathon said quietly. "You just can't… you have no idea…"

"Shut up, Jay," Harleen whispered and kissed him again. She let her fingers unbutton his shirt and she tugged it up out of his pants waistband. She could feel he was just letting her undress him, but she wanted to take her time. She didn't want to rush, she wanted to take her time and he didn't seem to be pushing her on. She met his eye again and his gaze was intense and unwavering, he didn't look away from her face and barely registered that she'd looked at him. She fumbled with the last button on his shirt, undid the cufflinks and buttons on his cuffs and pushed the shirt off his arm. He took hold of her arms and turned her round in front of him, he slowly unzipped the back of her dress, popped the safety button at the top of the bodice and ran his fingertips over the exposed skin of her back.

"Perfect," he said lowly and slipped the dress off her body. She was left in a red pair of panties, stockings and a strapless bra. He heard her take a sharp breath in and he leaned forward, pressing soft kisses across her shoulders. He smirked as she whimpered quietly and unhooked the clasp on her bra. He went to remove her panties, but she turned around to him again and ran her hands over his chest. She was pulled against him again and they shared a few more kisses before their wandering hands brought their lust up again.

Jonathon felt her hands tugging at his pants and underwear and finally her hand slipped inside of his boxers. He grunted as she started to fondle and stroke him and allowed himself to revel in the sensation she was causing. Eventually he couldn't take it and he pulled her hand away. He watched as she pushed his pants down to leave him bare in front of her and he took off her panties, taking the stockings with them. He kissed her as they moved awkwardly onto the bed and she parted her legs so he could move over her entirely. He rested his weight on her, knowing that she enjoyed that feeling and her hands wandered leisurely over his back, shoulder blades and ass.

"Please," Harleen whimpered and ground her groin against his. He could feel she was very damp and the skin between her thighs was burning hot. He felt his erection twitch at the thought and he kissed her a little harder.

"I can't, I'll hurt you," Jonathon said and moved one of his hands to her core.

"I don't care," Harleen told him honestly.

"I do-"

"Just… please, Jay, please." He met her eye and reached between them, he rubbed himself up and down her slick folds a couple of times before he moved a little into her. She closed her eyes and bit her lip. He leaned on one elbow and gripped her hand as the other gently teased the sensitive bundle at her apex as he moved inside of her. He felt her nails dig into the back of his hand and he closed his eyes as the pain pushed his lust higher. He hissed through his teeth at how tight she felt and he had to fight hard to control himself. Eventually he moved fully inside of her and as her muscles fluttered around him, he gripped her other hand too and they linked their fingers together.

Something was different this time though, this wasn't just sex or emotional sex, it was more profound. There was no rush to the finish, no desperation, just a need to be as close as physically possible. She hooked her legs around his hips and arched her back to press up against him as her body set on fire. He started to kiss her passionately, trying to tell her everything he couldn't say with a kiss.

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Finally they both fell over the edge in with a loud, low moan and he collapsed on top of her in their sweaty tangle of limbs. It took a few minutes before either of them had the notion to move and Harleen pouted when he moved away, he laid on his back and pulled her onto him so her head and arms were resting on his chest. They were exhausted, spent and that feeling of impending separation had disappeared. His hands rubbed up and down her back and she pressed soft kisses across his sternum.

"What did Dick mean when he said you'd explain?" Jonathon asked quietly, his grip on her tightening a little. He wasn't angry, just confused and she wasn't running away this time.

"Dick and I…. we were never together," Harleen answered softly. "I… I was angry and hurting and we came up with a plan to try and… I came up with a plan to… try and show you what that slap had cost you. But then you didn't fight, you didn't try and get me back. Dick and I never said we were together, just everybody assumed and we didn't correct them."

"Why did you run away after that night?" Jonathon mumbled.

"I was so scared of how much I needed you. I'd spent months at Blackgate pining for you and then I see you for a few minutes and… I couldn't cope without you," Harleen admitted. "It scared me. It terrified me, so I ran." She didn't look up at him, afraid of what he'd say or what he'd do. But he just held her tighter still and he kissed her hair.

"I wanted to come and tear you from Dick, bring you home and never let you out," Jonathon told her. "I was in so much pain after you went to Blackgate, it ate away at me like a disease. I just…. I didn't expect you to run so quickly."

"I'm sorry," Harleen whispered. He took hold of her chin and made her look up at him. It was the harshest contact they'd had all evening and it made her wince.

"Don't you dare ever apologise to me, Harleen Quinzel. I earned and deserved all of that pain, I hurt you, you didn't do anything to me. But I promise you that I will never hurt you again." Jonathon told her firmly. "I have one more question. What happened with Guy?"

Harleen fell silent again and closed her eyes for a moment. She looked up to him and he saw a strange fear in her, he'd never seen this before.

"I can't… not tonight, Jay, tomorrow I'll tell you everything… can tonight just be happy?" Harleen asked. He nodded and gathered her against him once more. They fell into silence and focused on each other. As they calmed and their bodies cooled down, Jonathon tugged a blanket over them and she snuggled her cheek against his chest.

They drifted in and out of a light dozy sleep, never quite falling into slumber, afraid they'd miss something. Even under the blanket, they were tangled around each other, seeking as much skin contact as they possibly could.

"Harley," Jonathon mumbled, his voice deep and crackled from tiredness. "This… this is it now, yeah? This is us?"

"Yes, this is us," Harley answered and pressed a soft kiss to his mouth before she started to drift off with her face in his neck. Her breathing started to slow and even out, her rhythm was soothing to Jonathon and he let himself start to fall asleep. He had her back and he was never going to let her go again. He'd kill anyone that tried to hurt her or upset her. No one would ever make her cry again.

He was just about into a dream when he heard an irritating sound, but the fog of sleep distorted it. He slowly opened his eyes and was about to smash whatever the object was when he realised that it was his cell phone ringing. He grabbed it from his discarded jacket pocket and looked at the number.

"Sharpe-"

"Oh thank god you answered, Jonathon, I know this is a long shot, but do you know where Harleen is?"

"What's this about, Sharpe? It's 3 in the morning," Jonathon groaned.

"Who is it?" Harleen asked, finally coming out of her sleep.

"It's Quincy," Jonathon told her quietly.

"Where's Harleen!" Sharpe demanded.

"She's with me, tell me what the hell is going on!" Jonathon snapped.

"With you but-"

"Sharpe!"

"It's Pamela, she's been shot, she's at Mercy. We think it was Woodrue."

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 ** _Thank you everyone!_**

 ** _And if you haven't, get yourself to Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom if you're a Jurassic Nerd :D_**


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Quincy peered through the windows into the Intensive Care Unit, Pamela had been quickly moved into a secure unit after they'd discovered who she was and where she worked. As much as Arkham proclaimed to turn people out without issues, they all knew there were some people in its walls that just didn't care and would continue to reoffend until handed a life sentence or the death penalty. Some of them just were too dangerous but they had to get them out of the hospital.

Occasionally a member of Arkham's staff would show some symptoms of various mental health problems, but they either relocated or it was very quickly hushed up and dealt with. There were certain areas of the hospital that only the most senior of doctors were allowed and that was typically where any previous employees were housed. Some were maintained on the maximum security wing, others on the isolation block and only a couple were in the medium and high security areas. Quincy held a lot of secrets about the internal workings of the Hospital and he wasn't about to divulge to anyone the darkest parts of the place to anyone.

Now there was Pamela, laid out on a hospital bed with lots of tubes, IV lines, sensors and a bag of blood attached to her. Her heart beat was desperately slow and there'd been a few times where they'd been convinced her heart had stopped. But then it'd give a few hurried beats and then ease out to normal. Her initial blood tests before the transfusions had been strange and then things had just gotten weirder. She'd been pronounced dead at the scene of the crime and as they'd started to move her, she'd let out a gasp of breath and crashed again. She'd remained the same way whilst in the hospital and hadn't changed.

He'd called Harleen's cell phone about twenty times, he'd tried Grayson, her landline, a couple of the other young women that she'd been with through the evening and then finally Jonathon. He was shocked and surprised, he'd seen the kiss on the dance floor, but had just assumed that it had just been a drunken Jonathon. He'd definitely heard Harleen's voice in the background of the call and he was curious to what exactly was going on.

Quincy heard a shout and a bang from down the hallway and he looked to the doors and saw a security guard and police officer trying to stop Jonathon from walking into the ICU. Sharpe marched to the doorway and showed the police officer copies of the two doctor's licences on his phone. He stopped Harleen from rushing straight passed and he saw the anger in her eyes.

"Quincy-"

"You need to know some things before you see her," Sharpe told her quietly, but firmly.

"Do you know what happened?" Jonathon asked.

"The guys are getting the footage together for the GCPD, the only staff that entered Arkham apart from the night shift were Pamela and Woodrue," Sharpe answered. "I have no idea how he got a gun in through security."

"I need to see her," Harleen said and tried to move passed Sharpe again.

"She's… she died, Harleen," Sharpe told her. "And then came back to life. Her blood is… weird. Her skin is green."

"Green? What do you mean, green?"

"Take a look," Quincy sighed and stepped out of the way. Harleen walked passed him and into the cordoned off room at the end of the corridor. She gasped sharply and her heart clenched painfully, her best friend, her biggest support was laid out on the hospital bed, wired up and on a lot of medication. She watched as Pam's chest rose and fell as the ventilator pushed air into her lungs, she listened to the monitor beeping as her heart tried to pump blood around Pamela's body and Harleen felt her heart break.

"Miss, you cannot be in here," A doctor told her.

"She's my best friend," Harleen snapped.

"She's in a critical condition, we're awaiting results of scans and tests," the doctor said gently and stood beside Harleen. "We do not know what's causing her skin to change, her internal organs are changing… we just don't know what's going on. Please, just in case we do anything to hurt her."

"But she's… I'm all she got-"

"And when we know it's safe for you to be with her, you can come in Miss Quinzel," the doctor said. "But we can't put you or Miss Isely at risk. Please, Mr Sharpe and Mr Carr are waiting for you."

Harleen looked at Pamela again for a moment before she left the room. She saw Jonathon and she didn't think twice, she walked over and he wrapped her up in his arms. He felt her shoulders shuddering and he rubbed his hand up and down her back.

"It's okay, she's gonna be okay." Jonathon told her.

"But she's… she's not as strong as everyone thinks," Harleen whispered. He couldn't really think of anything to say so he just held her as tightly as she wanted him too. He watched as the doctor spoke with Quincy for a little longer. The older man turned back to them and led them to a waiting room. There were a few chairs, a low coffee table and a large plant in the corner with some generic mass-produced picture frames on the walls. There was the distinct smell of disinfectant and cleaning product, a horrible little radio playing stupid music was sat in the corner.

 _Do they really think that helps calm people down?_

 _"_ _You and I both know that it's just to make the room feel less like the place where people are told that their family member has died. Hence why we're here for Pammy."_

 _Shut up. You don't know anything about her, Harley._

 _"_ _You sad, useless, pathetic little girl. You know nothing, Harleen. Much less about Pamela."_

Harleen felt someone shake her shoulder and she looked to see Jonathon frowning at her. She smiled weakly at him and he put himself beside her on the chair she'd been put on. He grabbed her hand and she threaded their fingers together.

"Harleen-" Quincy started, but he was interrupted by another doctor joining them with a clipboard and medical notes on it. He was taller than Jonathon and quite muscular, but he didn't hold eye contact.

"Doctors… As Pamela has no living family and Dr Quinzel is Pamela's only emergency contact, I'm afraid any choices come down to you."

"Choices?"

"Currently, Dr Isley has little to no brain function. She's on full life support. We've run every scan and test possible, we don't know what's happening. The lab are running tests on every single chemical in the Arkham pharmacy, including the drugs the patients are taking. Something has been injected into her system and is changing her. Her cellular structure is changing. Her liver, pancreas, spleen and kidneys are dying. Quickly. Her blood is green. Her skin is…. You've seen her. If Pamela does wake up, she's not going to be… she's not going to be awake for long."

"Harleen, do you know of anything that Woodrue was working on?" Sharpe asked.

"No… he… he was running some trials on anti-pychotics and if they worked in a liquid form but not anything… not anything that would do this."

"We've cleaned and repaired the bullet wound. If that was her only problem, she'd still be critical, but we can do more for gunshot wounds. It's going to be a case of watching and waiting. She might not wake up, she might surprise us all… but her organs are failing and they're…. breaking down. I don't really know how to explain it at all."

Harleen felt her lip tremble and she tried to stop herself crying again, she didn't want to be this emotional, not right now. Pamela needed her to be strong. She nodded at the doctor and he excused himself to go and run some more tests with Pamela's blood. She looked down at her hand and how her hands and fingers were wrapped around Jonathon's. Pamela had always said that she couldn't have both Jonathon and her, that one day Harleen would have to make a choice. She had the dreaded feeling that the ball had been that time to make a decision and she'd chosen Jonathon.

"What are you going to do now?" Quincy asked Jonathon.

"We'll wait here, Harleen won't want to leave Pamela and I'm not leaving Harleen to deal with this on her own," Jonathon answered. He lifted a hand to Quincy to stop him asking any more questions. He couldn't deal with it right now, but he knew there would be questions again soon.

"If you're not leaving, I'll get them to bring some food and blankets," Quincy said. "If they've taken all the medication and pills from Arkham for testing, we're going to prepare for some very uncomfortable patients."

"Zasz, Waylon and Jane Doe must be fully restrained and transferred to maximum security, no staff to have unrestricted access." Jonathon ordered. "Those three are potentially the most dangerous people in the asylum, Sharpe, without medication, they're going to be real trouble. Make sure everyone is aware that they are on lockdown until we can restart medication."

"Of course, Jonathon," Quincy nodded. "Harleen…. Take your time, take as much time as you need to come to terms with all of this." She looked up at him for a moment and dipped her head before she curled back into Jonathon. Quincy sighed and walked out of the room to try and organise some coffee and food for the two doctors. He had lots of questions to ask, but would have to head to Arkham to escort the police and investigators around the hospital as soon as possible.

"Stand up," Jonathon told Harleen. She reluctantly clambered to her feet and watched him as he pulled the small armchair and some of the plastic chairs around. He sat on the armchair and propped his legs up on the plastic chairs in front of him. He held his hand out and Harleen clambered into his lap. He wrapped his arms around her and she got comfortable against him.

"What if-"

"Sleep, Harls, we won't miss anything."

"But if she-"

"They will come and get you if anything changes, but you need to sleep," Jonathon said sternly. "Neither of us are sober enough or energised enough to deal with this properly. Get some sleep, Quincy's sorting out food and then we can be ahead of the game. Come on, princess, just do as I tell you for once."

Harleen felt her eyes close against her will and she found safety in being with him. His scent brought her comfort and familiarity, his arms kept her secure and made her feel safe. She felt herself starting to drift off into a heavy sleep and she pressed her face into his neck. Jonathon felt her breathing start to even out and he let his head lean back against the cushion. He wasn't sure how much time had passed when Quincy came back into the room a couple of drinks bottles, snacks and sandwiches in his hands. He heard one of the porters put cups of coffee on the table and leave again.

"Jonathon-"

"Sharpe it's not the time-"

"How long?"

"A while, but we were apart for a long time," Jonathon answered honestly.

"Do you love her?" Quincy asked.

"I can't answer that one, not right now." Jonathon told him. "But being without her is like hell."

"I'll see you tomorrow," Quincy said with a broad smile. "It's good to see you happy again."

Jonathon didn't particularly notice Quincy leaving and wasn't sure if he said anything more. He'd never thought Pamela would be the one to end up half dead in a hospital from working at Arkham, but it made him worry about how dangerous their lives were. For the first time ever, he was doubting his career choice and it was all because of the woman in his arms right now.

"I love you, Harley," Jonathon whispered.

"I love you too."


	22. Chapter 22

**_Hey guys!_** _Well... hasn't this been a long time.  
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Chapter 22

There was screaming, so much screaming and begging. They were screaming for help and mercy, but she didn't know who it was. She couldn't move, she couldn't see, she couldn't feel anything apart from pain. But the noise! It was deafening. She felt weight in her mouth and throat, something stopping her from breathing. Everything felt wrong, she couldn't say what exactly, but every part of her body just didn't feel _right_. Her arms and legs felt like lead weights and she couldn't do anything apart from shake her head a little. The thing covering her mouth was pulled away and the air felt cold and harsh. She struggled to open her eyes and she saw people staring at her, but they were fuzzy blobs. The thing in her mouth and throat was gently pulled away from her and she felt the need to vomit suddenly.

Her arms were still heavy but the people pulled her up to sit up as she fought her tiredness. The screaming got louder and louder, she couldn't hear what the people right next to her were saying. She felt her body lurch forward and her shoulder burned with pain as her muscles and bones jarred. _Why am I tied down?_ Pamela let out a guttural scream and tried to kick her legs, but again, something was holding her down.

"Oh my god! Everybody out!" Someone screamed and Pam gave one more lurch and she felt her ties rip free. Her eyes started to settle and she couldn't make sense of what she could see, there was a shattered vase and flowers spreading from its place on the table at the end of her bed. She could see pretty leaves and petals all around the room, vines gathered around the windows and reached for the sunlight. She tilted her head and stared at the strange plants around her. They were nothing like any plant she's ever seen and where on earth had they come from? She ran her hands over her face and hair, rubbing her eyes and sides of her head, trying to shut up the screaming that sat inside of her brain. She felt something push under her hand and she looked down to see a flower growing beneath her palm. She stroked the petals carefully and the screaming stopped.

"What?" Pamela mumbled and she stared at the pretty pink flower again. She was jarred from her thoughts as the door to her room slammed open. She glanced over quickly to see Harleen and Jonathon walking towards her, she didn't want Jonathon anywhere near her, but Harleen wouldn't be separated from him now – Pam was sure of it.

"Pammy?" Harleen asked.

"I don't… What is this?" Pamela muttered. "The plants… my skin…"

"We're gonna fix this, Pam, I promise-"

"Why would I fix this?" Pamela replied softly and she raised her hand so the little plant under it grew stronger and bigger. The flower bloomed and then more of the same plants appeared around her. She grinned at the beauty around her and let the plants crowd around her and she fell back to sleep, cradled in the leaves she'd created.

"Jonathon…"

"I have no idea, Harls," Jonathon mumbled.

A few hours later, Pamela woke up again and struggled through the fog in her mind. She'd had the weirdest dream where she'd been able to summon plants and flowers to her hands. She had seen Harleen and Jonathon too and she knew that that was impossible, they'd disappeared from the party and she had no doubt they were far too busy with each other for her to matter to them. She stretched her arms out and jumped when she felt something soft touch her hand, she looked to her side and stared at the pink flower that blossomed in front of her.

"No... No way," Pam muttered. "I'm… my skin is green!" She shrieked. She didn't feel normal, she felt unusual, a scream filled her ears and more vines and plants grew up around her, this time with sharp thorns and prickles. More screams hit her and she slammed her hands over her ears, trying to stop it, she knew she was yelling for help, but she couldn't hear herself.

"Pamela!"

"Pammy, stop!"

"The screaming!" Pamela yelled. "Who is screaming?" She had her eyes closed and she couldn't face looking at her skin anymore. She felt hands on her wrists and it burned, she tried to pull her hands away but the person didn't let go. Her internal rage made her thorns grow bigger and stronger the hands disappeared, she could hear and feel them growing, she could hear them whisper in her head and she was terrified.

"Red!" the woman's voice called again. There was only one person that used that name and she finally snapped her eyes open to see Harleen in the doorway. The screaming stopped and the silence was bliss, seeing Harleen was bliss and she felt the thorns retract into the blanket of plants.

"Harls? What… what's happened to me?" Pamela asked quietly.

"I don't… no one knows," Harleen answered honestly.

"I could hear something screaming… I think… I think it's the plants," Pamela whispered.

"But Pam-"

"I know, flowers don't scream but it's all I can hear and it's coming from the plants," Pam told her. "What's _he_ doing here?" Her eyes narrowed at Jonathon and she glanced between them.

"He brought me here, we got the call from Sharpe-"

"Sharpe? Where am I?" Pamela snapped as she realised she wasn't at home or in Arkham.

"You're in Mercy General," Harleen answered and carefully approached her best friend. She carefully stepped around the plants and tried not to touch any of them. She didn't know how much they were a part of Pamela or how she would react if she did touch them.

"The hospital… but-"

"You went to Arkham after the Gala," Jonathon told her, he stayed in the doorway and watched Harleen and Pamela warily. "Someone shot you and left you to die. You were found and rushed straight here, they've stitched you back together, but… You changed, Pamela."

Pamela slumped back against the crushed pillows and she started to sob. Everything had changed, everything was different and it was too much. She felt Harleen's arms wrap around her and she cried into her friend's shoulder.

"It's okay, Pammy… It's okay, I'm here," Harley whispered. "We'll get this sorted. I promise you."

Bruce walked down into the basement of his home and looked around the empty space. He crossed his arms and paused for a moment or two before he smiled a little and nodded his head. This would be perfect.

"Bruce? Honey?" Selina asked from the steps. "What are you doing down here? It's 4am?"

"The future is going to change, Selina," Bruce smiled. "I'm getting better, you're back and my family is healing. But there are things coming to Gotham…"

"Bruce, do you doctors know about this… obsession?"

"Of course not, they still think I'm insane," Bruce chuckled. "But I'm not, Selina. I'm fine. I just have vision."

"Bruce-"

"And this is where it will all grow."

"Under the house?"

"No. Under the lake."


End file.
